Fur? No Thanks, I'd Rather Go Naked!
by WrittenSword
Summary: Miranda Priestly likes to wear fur. What if she ended up in a situation where she had to re-evaluate? A slightly magical, slightly insane story about a developing romantic relationship between Miranda and Andrea. That means femlash! COMPLETE!
1. Part One

**Pairing: **Mirandy  
><strong>Rating:<strong> NC-17 (it was supposed to stay PG-13, but uhm... things sort of worked out this way... I blame Miranda!)  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Romantic comedy with a sprinkle of magic and a crack-ish idea at its core.  
><strong>Setting:<strong> Movie-verse. After the benefit, but before Paris. Andy is still with Nate and Mira is still with Stephen, but not for long... _harhar!_  
><strong>Summary:<strong> There's nothing like a little spell to bring Miranda and Andy closer together. ^_^  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>I don't own anything of the Devil Wears Prada, the book or the movie. I merely borrow the characters and play around with them for a while. I'm not making any profit from this piece of writing unless you consider the warm and fuzzy feelings of happiness! _Whee!_:-D  
><strong>Note:<strong> This has NOT been beta-read. I apologise for mistakes that might be floating around! It's simply because I don't see them in such a huge amount of text. I will take the time to go over them one by one and update with a better version some time in the near future! ^_^;

**A/N: **This random craziness was inspired by my love for "His Dark Materials" by Philip Pullman and all Ghibli Studio movies by Hayao Miyazaki. Their depicted interactions between humans and animals/daemons always make me smile. Also, I have two dogs and some of the behaviour described in this story is directly taken from my experience with them. :-)

**A/N2:**I don't mean for this to be a political statement or to cause any discussions. It's merely meant to be entertainment! :D

**A/N3:** okay... so maybe the pacing of this story is a bit odd... the end is sort of loooong. That is entirely the fault of our two ladies and the wonderful connection they have built during the main part of the fic, and it felt wrong to not indulge in that intense chemistry. Then again, I'm sure long-windedness is okay when it concerns _schnuggles_. ^_^ You may see it as a story... and a very loooong epilogue of sorts. Ha! :D

* * *

><p><strong>Fur? No Thanks, I'd Rather Go Naked!<strong>  
><em>by WrittenSword<em>

Andy Sachs averted her gaze from the group of naked protesters as she hurried past them and entered the revolving glass doors to the Elias-Clark building on Thursday morning. Working in fashion, she had seen her fair share of exposed skin, but sheepishly glancing at the beautiful models of a lingerie photo shoot and staring wide-eyed at completely naked, and not necessarily attractive, PETA protesters were two different things. She strode through the lobby and toward the elevators with the chorus of "Fur? No thanks! We'd rather go naked," still echoing from the street.

She wasn't averse to their cause. She loved animals and she hated that so many cute critters had to suffer in order for humans to bask in the luxury of their fur. However, she had never quite been able to find her place in the debate against fur. Stepping into the elevator cabin she gripped the cardboard tray full of coffee more firmly. She couldn't understand the fanatics that would bare all on the New York streets to draw attention to the brutal fate of a little bunny, but who then still wore _Dr. Martens_ without questioning the origin of the leather.

There was a certain hypocrisy and self-righteousness that had always made Andy wary of PETA members. Especially since many of them seemed to target her boss. The junior assistant of course knew that Miranda liked to wear the occasional fur wrap, but the editor was also fond of animals, if her St. Bernard Patricia and the many wildlife preservation charities she supported were any indication. Fur was part of the world of fashion, and as much as the brunette was disgusted by the farms, part of her appreciated how divine Miranda Priestly looked in a mink coat. She attempted to ignore the investigative journalist inside of her, who screamed that Andy, too, was a hypocrite.

After stepping off the elevator at Runway magazine she strode past the receptionist with her usual, friendly good morning wave and made her way through the maze of corridors to her desk. Emily, Miranda's senior assistant, was already busy printing their boss' itinerary when she acknowledged Andy's presence with a sniff. The redhead, who wasn't known for being particularly fond of Andy, had recently warmed up a little after the junior assistant had saved her ass at the annual benefit ball at the Met. However that didn't stop Emily from showing the occasional sign of disdain to keep up a pretence of hostility.

"Morning Em," the brunette greeted cheerfully as she handed over the other woman's coffee. She then carried Miranda's cup through the double doors and into the editor-in-chief's office to set it carefully down onto the desk. Making sure everything was in order she walked back to the assistants' area and took off her coat.

"Roy just texted. Miranda will be here in two minutes," the redhead mumbled, "I need to get these to the Closet," she held up a couple of Calvin Klein bags, "and then I'm going to Hermès so I won't be back until at least ten."

Andy nodded and tried not to dwell on the fact that running errands around the city used to be the junior assistant's job. For some reason Miranda had delegated all tasks that took the assistants out of the office to Emily, which meant that Andy now spent a large amount of her time tied to the desk, taking calls and rearranging her boss' schedule. The brunette didn't really mind because remaining in the office meant, being around Miranda.

The confident stride of four-inch heels coming from the corridor signalled the editor's arrival, so Andy quickly glanced at the reflective glass of a framed Runway cover from 1994 to put her hair in order, before stepping around her desk to welcome her boss.

Miranda pushed effortlessly through the glass doors, and without making eye contact or uttering a simple greeting, she began rattling off instructions for the day ahead.

"Reschedule my lunch with Irv to Tuesday and make sure the restaurant has an adequate choice of wine this time." The white-haired queen of fashion said in annoyance as she dropped the Book into Andy's waiting arms. "Call my ex-husband and let him know the girls will leave directly from Dalton, pick up Patricia on the way and should be in the Hamptons by eight. Then phone my husband and tell him that I won't make it to dinner tonight." Dropping her grey Marc Jacobs bag on her assistant's desk, she began shrugging out of her coat. "And get security to remove those barbarians outside the building. Is it too much to ask for the streets to be free of this vermin when I arrive in the morning?" The older woman paused to underline the last command with her signature glare and then finished with a customary 'that's all.'

Andy expertly caught the soft blur of Miranda's navy coat and nodded. She tried to not inhale the editor's scent still lingering in the fur in her arms too deeply as she moved to hang it in the closet behind her desk. She needed to get herself under control. Seven months in the older woman's employ and Andy still found herself star-struck. If she didn't know better she'd even say that it was getting worse. A glance into her boss' office confirmed that Miranda was already sitting behind her desk, sipping her skimmed-milk, double-shot latte and browsing through the morning papers.

Clutching the Book to her chest Andy tried to calm her racing heart, and she hurried to get the mock-up of the magazine's upcoming issue, filled with post-it notes of Miranda's comments, to the art department. On her way back she used her mobile phone to rearrange Miranda's schedule and cancel dinner with her husband.

As soon as she entered through the glass doors she heard raised voices coming from Miranda's office.

"What do you think you're doing?"

At her boss' steely tone Andy immediately looked up to see a very peculiar man standing in front of the editor's glass desk. He was wearing a floor-length wool coat that was littered with holes and colourful, patterned patches, and the wide-rimmed hat on his head released his raven hair in a single, thick braid that fell heavily down his back.

"I've come here to make a point," he answered with a surprisingly warm and friendly voice.

"I beg your pardon?" Miranda almost barked as she rose from her chair and elegantly, and not unlike a snow leopard circling its prey, sauntered around her desk.

As the man began to pull his hand out of his coat pocket, time slowed down for Andy. Almost as if in a dream she propelled forward as quickly as her high heels would allow and she flung herself in between her boss and the stranger at the exact moment as the man uttered a few unrecognisable words and a green flash of light zoomed through the air. Miranda looked stunned as she was struck and, in another blinding flash, she disappeared.

Pop. Gone. Just like that.

Andy stared at the collapsing pile of the older woman's clothes and could barely cover the horrified shriek that left her lips as she pressed her hand against her mouth. She spun around and almost screamed at the stranger.

"What have you done! Get her back!" She was hysterical. "Get Miranda back!"

His friendly eyes took Andy by surprise and further words died on her tongue as he gave her a smile that looked almost apologetic.

"Do not worry. Once she has finally made a difference, she will be back to her regular self."

He patted Andy on the shoulder and then cocked his head with a glimmer of curiosity in his gaze. "Hmmm, it appears that part of the spell has touched you as well." He squinted, pulling his copper skin into deep wrinkles around his eyes and forehead, as he fully evaluated the assistant. "Maybe that is for the best."

"For the best... spell... her regular self...?" Andy repeated in a stunned whisper.

"Take good care of her!"

And with that he turned around and walked away. Staring after him in complete and utter shock, the junior assistant tried to wrap her mind around what had just happened. She turned to look at the pile of clothes on the floor, worth easily over two-thousand dollars. She was at a loss of what to do. Should she run after him, or maybe phone 911? Adrenaline was clouding her brain and she bent her knees and sat down on the carpet.

With a bit of hesitation she reached out and ran her fingers over the still warm silk of the dark red blouse Miranda had been wearing just a minute ago. Her mind overrun with worry for the older woman, she couldn't hold back the thick tears that began rolling down her cheeks.

"Miranda... where are you?" She sniffed, wiping her eyes and nose with the back of her hand.

A sudden movement under the heap of designer garments startled her and she jumped up with a yelp.

"Andrea, would you calm yourself down," came the editor's disembodied voice.

Tears halting, Andy looked around the room, eyes wide. Had Miranda become a ghost? Was she invisible?

"M-Miranda...?"

"Stop stuttering so unattractively and help me!"

Good. If her boss still dished out insults things couldn't be too bad.

"I... I don't know where you are."

"Did that man hit you with a stupid-spell?" Miranda gave a muffled sigh. "I'm right in front of you, Andrea."

Andy looked down at the moving pile of clothes again. _Oh god, that man had shrunk the queen of fashion and now she was drowning in her own clothes!_

The brunette's heart hammered violently as she carefully shifted through the layers of silk, avoiding to think about the fact that Miranda's underwear was somewhere among the shed garments. Suddenly a white, furry head poked through the slack remains of the Prada skirt and despite Andy's instinct for flight as she spotted the array of tiny, sharp teeth under the cutest button nose, the icy glare of very familiar blue-green eyes froze her on the spot.

She stared dumbly at the weasel-like animal, seeing the truth flashing in bright neon letters in front of her, but refusing to accept it.

"Stop gaping, Andrea. It makes you look like a fish," the weasel spoke and Andy felt herself balance dangerously close to the edge of fainting.

"M-Miranda... is that you?"

The ridiculous image of this white ball of fur sniffing in a very Priestly fashion tethered Andy firmly back to the sturdy ground of consciousness.

"Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"

"Uhm... it's just... you're kind of... a weasel... thing."

"Excuse me?" The small animal spat and wriggled fully out of the pile of clothes with a very human air of arrogance. "This isn't the time for jokes, Andrea."

"Uhm... I'm not joking..." she looked around helplessly until she spotted the octagonal mirror above the editor's desk. "Wait." She pushed off the floor and lifted the heavy, framed object off its wall support. "Here," she continued as she lowered and angled the reflective glass into Miranda's direction. "See for yourself."

Resting the mirror's edge on the carpet she watched as the weasel-being carefully crept closer and studied itself. Its long body twisted to either side as it regarded its appearance quietly, lifting its little head and squinting those vivid eyes at the reflection as if somehow insulted by what it saw.

"A mink."

Andy was jolted from her silent observations at the calmly spoken words.

"Huh? What?"

"Not a weasel... a mink, Andrea. Or _neovison vison _in Latin. The American variety," mink-Miranda said matter-of-factly as she continued to study herself, using the tiny paws to brush over her fluffy head and licking her tongue over her teeth.

"Oh... okay..." Andy mumbled from where she knelt behind the mirror. "Uhm... but what are we going to do?"

The mink glared up and over the silver frame, straight at the brunette.

"Use your pretty, little head, Andrea."

On a regular day the 'pretty' would have escalated Andy's mood to beyond ecstatic, but today was certainly not a 'regular' day. Far from it. The only thing that convinced the junior assistant that this wasn't, in fact, a dream, were those icy eyes drilling into her. Even her overly creative mind could not reproduce Miranda's glare like this.

"Uhm, okay... I'll get your clothes off the floor and make sure nobody in the office sees you... like this." Andy vaguely waved her hands into Miranda's direction. "Then I will cancel all of your appointments for the rest of the day and... uhm... research _mink_."

The small animal's look was inscrutable, but after a brief moment of contemplative silence, she nodded her little head and said, "There's the smart girl I hired."

_She left out the 'fat', _Andy realised. Animal-Miranda was certainly less stingy with compliments than human Miranda.

"Alright," the brunette got off the floor and returned the mirror to its spot on the wall. When she walked back to pick up the clothes mink-Miranda had already managed to hoist herself onto the couch in the far corner of the office, and now sat poised and as regal as a fluffy animal the size of a small terrier could possibly be.

Shock slowly wearing off, Andy couldn't suppress her grin at the image.

"Stop grinning and pick up the clothes before anyone has a chance to see them!" The editor commanded, and Andy quickly gathered up the pile of fabric and the pair of Jimmy Choo heels.

"Do not wrinkle everything! Hang them up properly!"

Andy swallowed against the lump in her throat as she placed everything on the desk and fetched two hangers from the clothing rack by the window. First she carefully shook out the silk blouse and tried really hard to fight a blush when a delicate, La Perla bra slipped out and fell onto the desk. Sheepishly smoothing the fabric of the blouse she hung the silk garment onto the rack and then proceeded to sort out the skirt.

_I am not touching Miranda's lingerie, lalala, _she chanted inwardly when her shaky hands gathered up the bra and matching briefs that felt entirely too thin against her fingers. Of course she wasn't looking, but instead gazed out of the window at the New York skyline, feigning total ignorance.

_It's completely normal that I'm standing here, fingering my boss' underwear while she has turned into a mink and is sitting on the couch, judging me with those tiny eyes..._

Rolling up the pantihose she exhaled forcefully. "Where should I put... these?"

"In the bathroom cabinet. Bottom shelf," came mink-Miranda's answer and Andy hurried to get rid of the items that had her pulse racing.

Happy she had finished with this embarrassing task, she strode back into the office where she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the couch.

"Uhm... Miranda, what are you doing?"

The little creature lifted its head, tongue sticking out from where it had just licked a paw.

"Grooming, of course. What does it look like, Andrea?"

"Uhm... okay... ugh, I'll just..." the assistant mumbled and gestured into the direction of the outer office, "... make those phone calls." She shook her head in disbelief and walked to the open double doors where she briefly turned around to face mink-Miranda once more.

"Please don't run off or let anyone see you! I don't want to have to deal with distraught staff members who have contacted pest control, insisting that a weasel-like creature was attempting to murder them with poisonous glares."

Miranda didn't reply, but gave a small sniff that sounded rather close to a snort.

* * *

><p>It took Andy nearly forty-five minutes to cancel and rearrange all of the editor's appointments. People generally worshipped the ground Miranda walked on, but their ass-kissing and fake friendliness never extended to her assistants which made cancellations and last-minute changes even more difficult. The junior assistant sighed and cracked the stiffness from her neck before getting up and checking on her boss. She found the little creature curled up on one of the green chairs, her furry body softly rising and falling as she slept.<p>

Andy was overwhelmed by how adorable the mink looked. Now that its eyes were closed and it didn't talk and flash those sharp, carnivorous teeth, she could pretend that it was simply a cute, slumbering animal. She tiptoed a little closer and the almost inaudible, little snores coming from the creature were utterly endearing. Kneeling next to the chair Andy hesitantly reached out to touch the soft fur and wake Miranda.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?"

At the sudden voice from the doorway to the outer office Andy quickly pulled her hand back, however it wasn't fast enough. The pain of several sharp teeth sinking into the side of her palm had the brunette reeling, but she managed to suppress a scream. Unlike Emily, though, who began throwing British slang obscenities around and rushed into their boss' office. The redhead quickly reached for one of the magazines on the desk, rolled it up and attempted to beat the mink off her co-worker's hand.

"Emily! Emily, stop it!" Andy commanded in panic. "Don't hurt her, she was just startled, and it's the animal instinct taking over!" The pain was strong, but not enough to overpower her worry for Miranda, and so she picked up the frantic creature with her other hand and cradled it against her chest, shielding it from harm. Thankfully the little jaw released its grasp on her flesh and she grimaced as she flexed her injured hand.

The senior assistant stopped her assault and glared incredulously at Andy and the mink.

"You got to be kidding me. That giant rat belongs to you?"

The brunette rolled her eyes and pressed mink-Miranda a bit tighter to herself.

"She's not a rat, Emily."

"I don't care what it is," the British woman scoffed as she tossed the magazine back on the editor's desk with a loud smack. "If Miranda sees you with it, she will kill both of you!"

"Emily, please bore somebody else with your assumptions," a much calmer Miranda spoke from her secure spot against Andy's breast. "Go make yourself useful."

The redhead continued to glare at Andy.

"Uhm, Emily... didn't you hear her?"

"Hear who? There's nobody here except for us two and that giant rat."

_Weird._

"Are you saying you didn't just hear... someone..." the brunette chose her words carefully, "... telling you to get back to work?"

Emily stemmed her hands on her hips and stared at Andy as if the latter had just grown a second head.

"Are you daft? And why are holding that... _thing_ after it has just bitten your entire hand off?"

"She didn't mean to do that," the junior assistant mumbled, turning her upper body away from Emily and holding the mink firmly in her arms. Miranda took her completely by surprise when her tiny tongue began lapping at the small puncture wounds on Andy's palm. The brunette's resulting gasp stemmed from a combination of pain and utter disbelief.

_Wow, for once Miranda is licking the injuries her mouth has inflicted on another person! How totally and utterly bizarre!_

"Hey, Sachs!" Emily waved in front of her colleague's face to get her attention. "I'm serious. If Miranda finds out you brought your own personal zoo to work, you're toast."

Andy tore her gaze away from the image of mink-Miranda's tongue sliding over her skin and looked up at the senior assistant.

"Don't worry about that. Miranda... uhm..." She absent-mindedly stroked the back of mink-Miranda's neck. "She called in sick. She won't be coming into the office today. I already took care of her schedule, but I haven't had time to inform Nigel." Andy sighed. "Could you please do that, Emily?"

The Brit studied her for a moment and then rolled her eyes and turned to walk out of the office with a sniff. "Fine. But take care of... _that thing_," she pointed at Miranda and then stalked off.

"Uhm... okay, that was weird. She couldn't understand you," Andy spoke as she lowered Miranda back to the chair. "Why do you think that is?"

"Maybe I'm just a figment of your imagination," the mink sniffed and planted its little butt on the cushion, staring challengingly at the junior assistant.

"Ha-ha," Andy laughed sarcastically. Her injured hand had begun to throb and she winced as she brought it up for closer inspection. "No, I think you're very real. Ugh. I hope you don't have rabies..."

"I do _not_ have rabies, Andrea. Don't be ridiculous!"

The brunette just grimaced and then exhaled steadily against her bangs to try and concentrate on getting the pain somewhat under control.

"There's a first-aid kit in the bathroom as well as some Tylenol," Miranda spoke a bit more gently. "Get yourself patched up. Then I think we should leave the office before someone calls security."

Andy nodded in agreement and slipped into the private bathroom to tend to her hand. When she had finished she walked back toward the furry creature on the chair, holding up a hand towel.

"Here, I thought if I have to hide you in my bag you might at least be comfortable."

Mink-Miranda made no move to jump into Andy's waiting arms and the brunette sighed in frustration. "Miranda. You're pretty much stuck in this state for god knows how long, and it appears that so far I'm your only ally. So you better get used to me carrying you around."

After another brief moment of defiance, the furry creature finally sat up on its hind legs and allowed the brunette to pick it up.

"Okay," Andy mumbled as she walked to her own desk and retrieved her purse. "Where are we going? Your town house?"

The mink seemed to ponder for a while and the assistant managed to carefully lower the animal into her brown leather bag.

"Yes, it should be empty. Stephen is working and the girls are gone for the weekend."

At that moment Emily returned and eyed Andy sceptically. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Taking care of _my little friend_," the brunette replied, pointing at her bag as she pulled on her coat. "And then I'm going to the town house. Miranda... wants me to run some errands for her."

"Right," Emily rolled her eyes. "How come you're always the favourite?"

"I'm not her favourite," Andy mumbled sheepishly, fully aware of Miranda listening in on every word.

"Of course you are." The redhead parked her scrawny butt in the desk chair and dramatically flipped her hands in the air. "Whatever. I'm kind of glad I don't have to face a sick Miranda."

"Uhm... okay... well, I'll be going then." Andy slung her bag across her shoulder and gripped it tightly. "If you or Nigel have any questions just phone me and I'll relay your messages to Miranda."

"Yes, _Number One_," Emily mocked, but then added, "good luck!"

"Thanks, Em."

* * *

><p>The ride to the town house was uneventful, unless you counted the moment when Roy raised his eyebrows at Andy, because she kept talking to her bag. The brunette, however, spirited the weirdness away with a blinding smile and refrained from further conversation with Miranda until they arrived at their destination.<p>

Standing on the wide stone steps to Miranda's home in the daytime was strange and Andy felt severely out of place.

"What are you waiting for? An invitation?" Mink-Miranda huffed from her cosy, little bag-nest.

The assistant didn't respond but quickly retrieved her spare key and let them into the building. She had trained to cross the wooden floor of the downstairs landing almost silently, since delivering The Book and Miranda's dry-cleaning in the evenings was supposed to happen almost as if by magic. The assistants weren't allowed to make a single noise, but were expected to simply drop off the items and disappear again as if they had never even set foot into the house.

The brunette tiptoed further until she reached the base of the stairs.

"What are you doing, Andrea?" Miranda peeked her head out of the bag and Andy could have sworn she saw the mink roll its tiny eyes.

"Uhm... sorry... it's a habit," her voice didn't rise above a whisper.

The furry creature sighed and there was almost a hint of sadness.

"Am I really that scary?"

"Oh,... no. I just... don't want to disturb you and your family..."

Andy didn't want to add that drawing attention and risking to see Miranda in her slightly more casual home wear elicited rather overwhelming reactions on the brunette's part. Not to mention that the idea of walking in on another fight between her boss and Stephen was something the assistant would rather avoid altogether.

"Where should..."

The brunette's question was interrupted by the laughter coming from the second floor.

"What was that? The house is supposed to be empty," Miranda sounded surprised, and Andy began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her boss was going to make her investigate.

"Uhm... maybe I should leave... you're save here, right? I mean it's your home..."

Another round of laughter drew their attention upstairs once more.

"Don't be a baby, Andrea, and get up there."

"What if it's a burglar?" Andy whispered, one foot resting hesitantly on the bottom step.

"Then the alarm would have gone off. Use your head, silly girl!"

The assistant grumbled and squared her shoulders. Nothing good could ever come from walking up these stairs. They were cursed where Andy was concerned. Gathering up some courage she clutched the bag a bit tighter and began to ascend toward her doom.

Following the gentle curve of the stairs the voices became more defined and Andy could make out the laughter of at least one man and one woman.

"Stephen," mink-Miranda hissed.

_Shit!_Andy thought. This wasn't going to end well.

"Miranda, let's leave, please."

"Nonsense. When he spots you, just say you're here to fetch some papers from my office."

The brunette gulped. _When _he spotted her. She wasn't sure she wanted that to happen at all, but in a way she felt bad for Miranda, and this situation was more or less indicative of a failing marriage, which as sad as it may have been, still for some reason sparked something inside Andy that almost tasted of hope. The assistant grumbled and wrapped a supportive arm around Miranda in the bag.

"Okay, stay hidden. I don't want him to see you, or worse, hurt you."

The mink gave a muffled growl from beneath the towel but settled down and remained still. Glancing at the ceiling and uttering a silent prayer to whomever may be listening, Andy cleared her throat and shouted. "Uhm... hello? Anybody home?"

The voices stopped abruptly and after a few long seconds of silence a door in the far end of the corridor was opened and Stephen stepped out, buttoning his shirt.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?"

"_His _house!" The brunette heard Miranda sniff angrily from her hiding place.

"Uhm... I'm Miranda's assistant. She sent me to fetch a few things. I'm sorry to interrupt, but she assured me the house would be empty at this time of day." Andy surprised herself at being able to say all that without flinching.

Miranda's husband stepped closer and the brunette could see recognition dawn on his face as he swept his gaze up and down her form. For some reason when Miranda did just that, it never bothered Andy, but now that Stephen was openly checking her out she felt dirty and uncomfortable.

"Oh yeah. I remember you. You have a knack for walking up these stairs at inopportune moments." He gave her a crooked smile and moved even closer

"I'm just gonna go to her office and then I'll be out of your hair," Andy stammered.

He stopped a few feet in front of her and fumbled in his pants pocket. "How about," he pulled out a fifty-dollar-bill, "you forget that you saw me here today?"

Andy glared at the money in disbelief when it was thrust in her direction. Did that jerk honestly believe her loyalty to Miranda could be bought off?

"Take it," came Miranda's whisper, and for a second the brunette was worried that Stephen could hear Miranda as he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Take the money, Andrea. He might as well already start paying now."

With a pained smile she reached for the cash and nodded to Stephen. "Okay, no problem. I understand."

No, actually she didn't understand at all. How could anyone cheat on someone as beautiful and brilliant as Miranda? That thought lay completely beyond the reach of Andy's comprehension.

"So yeah... I'm just gonna go get the stuff I came here for and leave." She gestured vaguely toward random doors, obviously having not the slightest idea where Miranda's office was located.

Stephen gave a sleazy smile and pointed behind her. "It's the third door on the left."

"Thanks," the brunette allowed a smirk so fake, she was afraid her cheeks would fall off.

_Most painfully awkward day ever!_

She hurried to the indicated room and released a sigh of relief as soon as she was out of Stephen's line of sight. "God, Miranda, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say..."

"Then say nothing. Wait here." The mink instructed harshly. "I'll be right back."

And before Andy could catch her, Miranda had slithered out of her bag and dashed through the open door.

_Goddammit! _Andy cursed under her breath and after an indecisive second or two she quickly hurried after the suicidal mink. A blood curdling scream from the direction of where Stephen had been entertaining his lady friend stopped her in her tracks right next the stairs.

"Andrea, get out of the house. Now!" Came Miranda's breathless command a short distance away and before Andy could defy her in order to make sure her small, furry boss was safe, she saw the white blur of Miranda being chased by her husband down the hallway and toward her.

"Hurry!" The editor hissed and the assistant scrambled down the stairs as quickly as she could manage. At the bottom step she turned around just in time to catch Miranda with her uninjured hand, and with a final glance at an incredibly pissed-off Stephen standing at the top of the stairs, she hurried across the carpeted entrance area and swept through the door.

Only once her and Miranda were safely in the Mercedes and Roy had pulled away from the curb did Andy allow her heart to slow down.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell did you do?" She almost shook the fluffy creature to make a point, however to her shock she quickly realised that Miranda was trembling. Her little body was shivering from the terror of being set after and nearly killed by her own husband after having caught him cheating, and the brunette instantly pulled the mink to her chest and began to soothingly stroke her fur.

"Shh... it's okay... we're safe now..."

Roy cleared his throat. "Andy... does Miranda know you have a... a ferret with you?"

The assistant gently cradled the distraught animal and focused her attention on the driver.

"Uhm, yes. She knows, don't worry." Her fingers caressed behind Miranda's little ears and she could feel the editor relaxing. "And she's not a ferret, but a mink. A very special one." She looked down at the slumbering snow-white creature and had to grin. "Naughty, but special."

"Alright then," Roy smiled, no doubt relieved that Andy had not actually become a crazy person who talked to her bag. "Where to?"

"Well..." The brunette considered their options. The office was out of the question, so was the townhouse. "Could you drive me to my apartment? I'll work from home for the rest of the day."

"Sure, no problem."

Andy sunk deeper into the seat and held on to Miranda as if she were the most precious creature on the planet.

* * *

><p>Having Miranda in her tiny apartment had always been a nightmare scenario for Andy. It was a dark and crummy place, and the most modern thing in it was probably the three-year-old mould on the bathroom tiles. With a sigh to steel herself for the editor's scathing judgement she set the furry creature down on the floor and allowed Miranda to roam the limited square feet of hers and Nate's humble abode.<p>

After a brief exploration, the mink made her way to the living room couch and jumped onto it with an elegance only Miranda Priestly turned into an animal could possess. Her little paws scratched at the raggedy cushion and with a sniff of complete and utter displeasure, but without releasing the dreaded verbal storm of disapproval, she finally settled down. Eyes drilling into Andy expectantly she waited for the brunette to join her.

"By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me," the furry creature huffed, and this time the assistant couldn't restrain herself any longer. The ridiculous image of the regal little fur ball with Miranda's icy voice was too much for Andy and she burst into laughter.

"I don't see how any of this is funny, Andrea," Miranda huffed and raised her button nose in the air.

"I... I'm sorry, Miranda," the brunette tried to get herself under control. "It's just... everything is... so incredibly bizarre." She walked over, still giggling, and sat down next to the miffed mink.

"I truly am sorry." She said a bit more sincerely. "I know it must be much worse for you."

Miranda growled. "Well, obviously I'm trying my hardest to ignore the fact that I have been turned into... this."

Andy nodded. As cute as her boss was as a furry creature with the softest hair and the most adorable little snout, she did prefer the editor in her human form.

"I still don't understand what that strange man was thinking when he did this to you." Andy shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of the couch. "I'm still angry at myself for not running after him and demanding he undo everything immediately."

The mink sniffed. "I doubt that he would have listened. He said I would have to make a difference to break this... spell." She sighed. "God knows why I'm even excepting that such a thing exists."

The assistant looked up, "well you kind of are all the proof you need."

Miranda regarded her intently. "What do you think he meant? 'Make a difference'?"

That was something Andy had been asking herself all morning.

"You are a mink, so I'm assuming it may have something to do with the fur industry. So... uh... stop wearing animal skins?" She shrugged helplessly.

The little fur ball appeared lost in thought when a big yawn swept over her, and Andy was torn between total adoration and slight alarm as she remembered those sharp teeth piercing her skin.

"You go to sleep," the assistant told her boss while flexing her fingers and staring intently at her bandaged palm, "I'll get started on some research so we know what to feed you."

Miranda glared at her as if to say 'I'm not a child who needs to be sent to bed', but her fatigue betrayed her and she curled up in a perfect bagel shape, resting her head on her little paws on top of her bushy tail, and quickly succumbed to slumber. Before sleep completely claimed her she whispered, "I'm sorry about your hand, Andrea."

For a while Andy just stared at the marvellous creature in awe. The urge to reach out and stroke the soft fur was tempting, but if she had learned one thing today, it was to not disturb a sleeping mink. Especially not one that was by its human nature already incredibly defensive.

Poor Miranda. First some lunatic shaman... -person had turned her into a ten-inch fuzzy creature, after which her senior assistant had attempted to beat her with a rival magazine. Then instead of being able to retreat to the safety of her home, she had caught her husband cheating and had to essentially flee for her life when Stephen had caught her sneaking a peek at the woman he was having an affair with.  
>No wonder the little mink was exhausted.<p>

Suppressing a yawn of her own, the brunette reached for her laptop and began reading up on _neovison vison._

* * *

><p>At noon Andy found herself in the kitchen in search of caffeine and the sound of the coffee grinder woke Miranda, who stretched her back like a cat would - bum in the air and front claws digging into the fabric of the couch. Andy was actually glad that all of their furniture was second-hand and had been pretty cheap as the mink jumped expertly onto the carpet and joined the brunette by the counter.<p>

"I don't suppose I can have some of that?" The editor sounded annoyed. "The smell is driving me insane."

"No... no coffee for you. Sorry." The assistant murmured as she placed her cup under the machine and pushed the appropriate buttons. "The diet of a mink consists primarily of fish, crustaceans and birds." She gently picked the lithe animal off the floor and placed her on the kitchen table, knowing that the editor loathed being talked down to.

Miranda's little nose wrinkled up in displeasure. "Fish?" Andy confirmed with a nod. "What about steak?"

"Yeah right," the brunette snorted. "Because a mink in the wild could take on a buffalo."

"_I_ could," the editor dead-panned, and Andy wasn't so sure that, if such a confrontation were to ever happen, the buffalo would come out as the winner.

"You're right." She leaned against the counter, looking directly at Miranda. "However, I'm not willing to risk your life or cause your little stomach excruciating cramps, just to appease your fancy-pants palette. So," Andy added creamer to her cup, "we're gonna go and pay a visit to the fish market. Unless you want me to take you down to the Hudson so you can hunt your own lunch."

She was a bit surprised that she had the guts to speak to her boss like that. Then again Miranda being a small animal had roused a protectiveness in Andy that helped her feel more confident when dealing with the usually intimidating fashion maven.

The mink on the kitchen table looked unhappy, but didn't say anything further.

"Okay, it's settled then. The market it is," the assistant stated cheerfully and sipped her coffee. "Oh, by the way, I received a message from Nigel, asking what was going on with you and claiming that you haven't had a sick day since the day the twins were born."

"He is correct," Miranda nonchalantly studied her paws as if working every single weekday for ten years straight was completely normal. "This... is incredibly inconvenient." She sighed. "If the next issue doesn't go to print Sunday night it will be the first time in my twenty-two years as editor-in-chief that I haven't made a deadline."

Andy set down her cup. "Miranda, don't worry, okay? We'll figure something out. Tomorrow we'll go back into the office and if need be, you can give instructions to Nigel through me. He'll probably hate me for a while, but he will listen and do his best."

"Fine," the mink sighed. There wasn't really much else they could do today other than make sure Miranda was cared for, and maybe figure out exactly what they had to do in order to get her back into her human form.

The assistant rinsed her empty cup and then walked back to the coffee table in the living room.

"Here, I found this _rebozo_ in my closet." She tried not to notice the thoughtful stare mink-Miranda was sending her way. "I can wear it like those moms who carry their kid around on their chest. I figured you'd be a lot more comfortable and I can do a better job of protecting you against bump-ins in crowded places."

After pulling on her coat, the assistant tied the shawl around her shoulder and hip and reached for her furry boss. The warmth of the little creature against Andy's chest was oddly soothing, and the mink snuggled contently into the fabric and only allowed her face to peek out.

"Andrea... why are you doing all these things for me?" She spoke softly.

Unsure how to answer Andy stalled for time. "Uhm... what do you mean?"

"You... taking care of me. It's not part of your job description to lug around your boss-turned-mink and make sure she's comfortable and fed." Miranda elaborated carefully. "You could have just left me in the office to fend for myself."

"I could never do that, Miranda!" The brunette protested and then added in almost a whisper, "I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you." The thought of the little mink getting lost in the plumbing of the Elias-Clark building and starving, or her plunging to her death in the elevator shafts had Andy trembling. "Also... that man... he told me to take good care of you..." she added sheepishly, hoping that the editor would accept this as a sufficient enough reply.

Apparently not.

"Yes, but... even before... when he was threatening me, you ran right for us and even threw yourself in front of me." Miranda's voice had become almost inaudible and Andy had to bend her head to catch what she said next. "I may have been in shock after being transformed so suddenly, however, I still heard you cry for me... Andrea."

The brunette swallowed hard and felt a heated blush cover her cheeks. "Uhm..."

How was it even possible that a furry little creature could look this smug? Andy decided that the topic was finished and she determinedly walked to the door, trying very hard to calm her racing heart.

* * *

><p>It took more than an hour for the two of them to return and Andy groaned as she dragged herself into the apartment.<p>

"I can't believe you made me buy all this fish!" She whined, dumping the heavy bags on the kitchen table and then placing Miranda on top. "That was easily an entire week's salary."

The editor sniffed, most likely at her assistant's complaints, but maybe also because the contents of the plastic bags seemed to pique her interest. "Don't give yourself a heart attack, Andrea. I will pay you back. How am I supposed to find out which fish I prefer if I don't try them all?"

"Yeah, you'll pay me... _if_ we ever manage to get you back to normal." Andy grumbled. "Unless we can't, and I'm stuck with a very posh and extremely snooty, new pet."

The mink twisted it's long body to glare at the brunette. "Well, just dump me at the local animal shelter then, if I am such a burden."

Andy managed to hold the gaze, but her anger dissipated. She just couldn't stay mad at her adorable, fluffy boss.

"I wouldn't be able to do that, Miranda." She set a plate on the table and pulled out a chair to sit down. "I promised to take good care of you, Miranda. It's just... this isn't necessarily easy for me, either. I'm doing my best, alright?"

The mink acknowledged her with a slight tilt of the head.

Trying to lighten the mood Andy grabbed at one of the bags. "Now... which one would you like to try first?"

Miranda planted her little butt regally in front of the plate and, with a final sniff, asked for the trout with unbelievable normalcy, as if she were simply ordering a bottle of Chardonnay in a restaurant.

"'Okidokie. Trout coming up," the assistant announced cheerfully as she unwrapped the marked, brown paper. She grimaced at the sight of the dead fish, but nonetheless picked it up by the tail and lay it across the plate. "There ya go."

Miranda just glared at her as if Andy had said 'stuff' to describe the newest Prada collection.

"Andrea, I'm not eating this like I'm some kind of wild animal. Current physical appearance notwithstanding."

"What?" The brunette gawked at the mink. "You want me to cut it for you?"

"_Fillet_, Andrea. Not _cut_." Miranda narrowed her eyes. "It's bad enough that I'm apparently stuck with eating raw fish. I will not lower myself to the likes of a _Gollum_. I can still do this in a civilised way."

The reference to one of Andy's all-time favourite books and movies softening her, the assistant allowed a smile and got up to retrieve one of Nate's chef knives. Returning to her seat she took a deep breath for courage and stared down at the lifeless fish.

"You know, I've never done this before. If I cut off my finger, who's going to feed you and carry you around?"

"Oh please. You'll be fine. You have managed perfectly well with an injured hand so far."

_Wow... another semi-compliment! Being an animal must be messing with her head, _Andy pondered.

"And I thought you lived with a cook? Have you never watched him fillet a fish?"

Suddenly reminded of her boyfriend the brunette began to feel the beginnings of panic. What if he insisted she'd get rid of the mink? She realised she hadn't really thought this through at all.

"Uh... he doesn't cook much at home. Just the bare necessities... you know... PB&J or grilled cheese sandwiches."

Andy had used to like his snack food until she had started to work at Runway and had become more conscious of what exactly she put into her stomach.

"Pfff," that sounded so bizarre coming from the mink. "What kind of chef-in-training is he? You'd think that someone so keen on becoming a big name in gastronomy would take any chance he gets to practice."

How could Miranda possibly know so much about Nate?

"Huh? How would you know what my boyfriend is keen on?"

"One hears things." The editor stared down at her tiny claws as if the conversation was boring her. "Not to imply that I've been eavesdropping in the conversations between my assistants."

Andy's eyes grew wide. _Shit._She frantically tried to recall every single thing she had told Emily about her private life during the past seven months.

"Andrea." The stern tone snapped her out of her panic. "The fish."

Carefully weighing the knife in her hand she turned the trout in front of her to a better angle and announced. "Alright. Fasten your seat belt. I'm going in."

* * *

><p>Two hours, seven species of fish, and a big giant mess on the table later and Miranda had finally decided that she preferred the salmon. As the mink carefully ate off the plate Andy leaned back in her chair feeling totally exhausted. Somehow the human version of her boss was a lot less work.<p>

Although Miranda was right in front of her, and nothing about her personality seemed to really have changed, Andy found herself missing the older woman. The mink was adorable, and as far as little carnivorous predators went, this one was a rather beautiful specimen. Still, the brunette couldn't help but picture the editor's human face. That pointy chin and how well it complimented the perfectly imperfect nose. The way her lips would draw into a pout or curl into the faintest of smiles. Her hands, that had the habit of playing with earrings, or a necklace, every time Miranda spoke, or the way the older woman would stretch against the tension in her neck and shoulders when she thought nobody would see.

But most importantly, Andy missed those expressive eyes that she had learned to read more or less like an open book. The mink's were of the same shade, and they resembled Miranda well, just, for some reason that wasn't enough.

The assistant sighed deeply and began cleaning up the pieces of fish her boss had refused to eat. _What a waste of money and food, _she thought as she deposited two full plastic bags into the garbage. At least Miranda had finished half a piece of the salmon they had bought. Andy wrapped up the rest of it and placed the packages in the fridge. After watching the mink finish its meal and then lick its paws clean the brunette used a paper towel and some kitchen disinfectant to scrub the table. She scrunched up her nose at the thought that the apartment would probably smell like fish for weeks. She picked up Miranda and placed her on the carpet before cleaning the last few fishy spots off the wood surface.

"I think we should try poultry tomorrow. There's no way in hell I'm doing this," the assistant waved her hand at the kitchen, "every single day."

The mink didn't answer and simply clawed its way back onto the couch where it proceeded to use its paws to groom its long whiskers. Andy trotted over and sat down next to Miranda with a huff.

"You know... when Nate gets here we will need to show him that you are very well trained. I don't want him to kick us out." The brunette tried not to groan as she realised she had essentially just told her boss to behave.

"Andrea, I will not perform tricks, if that's what you're asking," the editor scoffed, but somewhere between the lines Andy could sense the slightest hint of amusement.

"Of course not, Miranda. I didn't mean anything like that.. Uhm... just... earlier, when you were asleep, I put out Yuki's old litter box in the bathroom."

"Excuse me?" Nope. Definitely no traces of humour in that one.

"Yuki was my cat. He passed away last year, but I still have most of his things. For some reason I couldn't part with them," she explained lamely, knowing full well that Miranda wouldn't care about the _origin _of the litter box, but rather about the intended purpose of the item itself.

"Andrea, I will not have you clean... my... well..." the mink looked utterly scandalised and Andy thought that if animals could blush as a reaction to emotional state, Miranda would be pink from head to tail.

"You're welcome to balance on the toilet seat. Just don't come crawling when you have slipped and then smell of sewer." The brunette's tone was slightly mocking, but she couldn't help it. Speaking with Miranda about where she should be doing her business was just too surreal. "I didn't think you'd want me to hold you over the bowl..."

"Enough!" The editor sounded almost panicked. "Fine, I'll use the box. Happy?"

Andy nodded brightly and then grabbed her laptop and placed it on the couch between them.

"Are you sure you want to try this yourself? I can type rather well, you know?" She offered while lifting the screen and switching the computer on.

"Not that it should be any of your concern, Andrea," the mink glared at the brunette, "but this more or less my last attempt at having some resemblance of control."

"Alright. But it's not a sign of failure if you can't manage to write emails while in animal form, Miranda. Ask for help, okay? It's not a bad thing. I promise I will never hold it against you."

The assistant still had not gotten used to the image of the mink rolling its eyes, but at least it told her that the editor had basically agreed. Or rather... reluctantly accepted.

* * *

><p>Andy was completely at peace. She felt extremely comfortable, and for the first time in months, content. She woke up slowly, sensing the soft pressure on her chest before she even blinked her eyes open. When she finally did look, the sight of Miranda curled up on her stomach and her little head resting on the swell of her assistant's breast filled the brunette with delicious warmth and made it difficult to breathe.<p>

Before she could reach out and carefully brush over the editor's fluffy fur, however, the clearing of a throat forced her to look up.

Nate stood a few feet away, keys still in hand, and a puzzled expression plastered across his scruffy face.

"Uhm, hi Nate," Andy whispered, careful not to wake Miranda as she waved weakly at her boyfriend.

"What's going on, Andy?" He asked and pointed at the white fur ball on her chest. "Did you get a new cat?"

"Shh! Don't wake her," the brunette hissed and frowned at him unhappily. "And it's not a cat, Nate."

"Look, Andy. I don't really care what it is. What's it doing in our apartment?"

"Uhm..." she automatically allowed her head to sink lower between her shoulders in submission to his, no doubt, approaching anger. "I'm watching the twins' pet mink."

"Great. _The Dragon Lady_ again!" He tilted his head back and ran a hand through his curls as he closed his eyes with a sigh. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Nate..."

"No, Andy." He sent her an accusative glare.

"Is it not enough that you blew off my birthday party for her? And that you're constantly working late? And that you always take her phone calls on the first ring... even while we're having sex."

"Oh my god, Nate!"

She buried her burning face in her hands and when she peered through the fingers, tiny, curious eyes gazed back at her.

_Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!_

"And now," he continued, completely unaware of what was happening on the couch, "she even manages to interfere with the rest of my home life."

Andy was still hiding behind her hands, unable to openly look at Miranda who had obviously been listening the entire time.

"Nate, it will be only temporary," Andy mumbled against her palms.

"Yeah, that's what you said about that job of yours. And now you're practically married to it." He sounded defeated. "And why are you covering your face? Still with the sex-thing?"

The brunette winced.

"Jesus, Andy. It's not like we've done anything in weeks..."

"Nate, would you please stop talking about that!" She almost cried.

"Fine. Whatever. I'm going to bed." He shook his head and flicked his hands in Andy's direction. "Have fun schmoozing up to your boss through her cat... thing." And with that he trotted off into the bedroom and firmly shut the door.

"Oh god," the assistant groaned. "That did not just happen!"

Andy was worried that her boss would take off after having witnessed this disgraceful scene. Waiting a few seconds to pull herself together and attempting to bring the colour of her face back to normal, the assistant risked a glance and to her surprise the mink was sitting perfectly still and simply gazed at her.

There wasn't mockery in those tiny blue eyes and if Andy hadn't known for sure that this was still Miranda she was gawking at, she could have sworn that there was sympathy in the little creature's face.

"Uhm... sorry about that, Miranda. He..." she gulped back the lump in her throat. "He's not usually like that."

"Hmmm," the editor cocked her little head. "I would hope so."

Andy didn't know how to reply to that. In his heart Nate was a good guy, but lately all he did was complain. He had also never really made the effort to understand her new job or the world it belonged to, which wasn't really fair, since Andy had accompanied him to countless gastronomy fairs and speciality markets in the past.

Unable to keep her eyes locked with Miranda, who seemed to look right into her, the brunette sat up and peeked at the wall clock.

"Wow, it's past midnight! How did that happen?"

They had been busy writing emails from Miranda's Runway account to let everyone know that she would be absent for the unforeseeable future and that Andy was to be the go-between. Then, after eating dinner together - Andy had fried up some of the salmon for herself, while Miranda had preferred it raw - they had spent a few hours visiting anti-fur websites and reading up on the few designers who made a habit of only using fake fur in their designs.

"I should probably go back to sleep,... but I'm too worked up now," the brunette mumbled and looked back at the warm ball of fur. "We could continue trying to figure out our 'mission'..."

Miranda gave her another long gaze and then crept over to the other end of the couch, allowing the brunette to sit up and stretch her stiff muscles.

"It may not be as easy as me no longer wearing fur. If that were the case, I doubt I'd still be sitting here as an animal." She sighed in exasperation. "That man's point has been made rather well, I suppose."

Andy began to worry. "Uhm... but... I'm not sure I'm willing to do anything illegal, like freeing thousands of mink... or throwing paint at celebrities."

"Of course we're not going to do anything moronic like that, Andrea," the mink narrowed her eyes at her assistant. "Releasing the domesticated mink from farms into the wild is incredibly stupid and destructive to the local wildlife. Most of Europe's natural mink population has diminished due to the American variety being released from captivity by so called 'animal rights activists'. Their self-righteousness has endangered several indigenous species, but do they stop and use their brains? No, of course not. That would be too much to ask, wouldn't it?"

The editor's white fur rose up at her shudder of annoyance and disgust.

"And those individuals who fling red ink at people who wear fur coats don't seem to grasp that they essentially just make the lives of the animals whose fur was used in the garment completely worthless." She looked up at her assistant, blinking her eyes and wriggling that cute, little nose in a way that made it very hard for Andy not to reach out and cuddle her to death. "The wealthy will always just buy a new coat, ensuring the demise of yet another dozen of mink, silver foxes or hares, and the ruined coat will just end up in the trash. A complete waste."

Andy remembered the way Miranda had looked this morning, waltzing into the office with her signature air of command and that navy fur coat hugging her curves perfectly. What kind of animal had been used to make that coat? A mink? One like Miranda? Tremors of unease rippled through the brunette at the thought of anyone harming Miranda to make a coat out of her.

"Uhm... maybe he meant for you to change the fashion industry's view on fur? I mean... I think you do have that kind of power and..."

The editor interrupted her. "I absolutely refuse to print anything negative about designers simply because they happen to use real fur in their designs, Andrea. Runway is not a platform for activism and I cannot and will not dictate ethics to our readers. Just think of all the advertisers we could lose. Irv would instantly have the board's back-up to get rid of me once and for all."

With a rub to her pounding temples the brunette inhaled deeply against her approaching fatigue. "You're right."

She let her hands drop back to her lap with a slap. "Maybe we could be more subtle... you know... instead of being _against _fur... we could promote alternatives... and make them seem _cool_... like a new fashion trend..." The mink's face was assuming a rather mocking expression and Andy rolled her eyes and whined, "what now?"

"_We?_" The little animal's mouth appeared to nearly curl up into a smirk.

"Uhm... _you_... I meant _you_."

After a few moments of Miranda sending Andy that surreal almost-grin, the editor relented.

"You will contact the appropriate editorial departments tomorrow to find a collection of winter coats from known designers that use preferably organic faux fur," The mink succumbed to a big yawn and stretched her little legs. "Now. I may temporarily belong to a nocturnal species, however I think it's time we got some proper sleep."

Unable to fight the contagiousness of the yawn, the brunette stifled one of her own and got up from the couch. "Yes... uhm... I placed Yuki's old basket next to my side of the bed so you can be comfortable, but still nearby in case anything happens." She sheepishly scratched at her elbow and pointed at the seat she had just abandoned. "Unless of course, you wish to sleep on the couch."

"Yes, thank you," came Miranda's court answer and Andy walked toward the bedroom feeling suddenly rather self-conscious. When she placed a hand on the door knob she turned around. "I'll leave the door open, so you can move between rooms." Offering a final, shy smile she added, "Goodnight, Miranda. Wake me, if you need anything."

"Yes." The editor replied softly from her spot on the couch. "I will. Goodnight."

The assistant quietly entered the bedroom, where she began stripping down to her underwear, and then carefully crawled onto the mattress without waking her snoring boyfriend. She snuggled under the blankets with her back to Nate and closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>In her dreams Andy found herself wrestling with aggressive PETA protesters who wanted to harm human-Miranda on the side walk in front of Elias Clark, only to be running through an abandoned warehouse a second later, clutching a terrified mink version of her boss to her chest while vicious-looking hunters chased after them.<p>

She felt exhausted and terrified for Miranda's life and no matter how hard she ran, the men behind them seemed to catch up effortlessly. Then suddenly there was a loud yell so close to her ear it was actually painful.

Waking with a start she realised the scream had actually come from Nate who was propelling himself off the bed with a curse.

"Fuck! What the hell!"

Andy blinked against the diffuse morning light and turned around to see her boyfriend's grimace as he studied his hand in disbelief.

"That fucking thing bit me!"

The brunette sleepily rubbed her eyes. "What?"

"That thing!" He pointed accusingly at Andy. "It fucking bit me!"

Puzzled, the assistant looked down as the wrangled covers moved and a little furry head peeked out on her bra-clad chest.

"Now I feel the need to brush my teeth," Miranda dead-panned and if it weren't for the shock and post-sleep disorientation, the brunette would have burst out laughing. Instead she just gazed into those smug, glacial eyes, completely baffled.

"Aren't you gonna discipline it?" Nate asked. "I can't believe you even allowed that monster in our bed!"

"Nate, calm down! It's not like she did it on purpose." Although, something in the way the mink settled down on Andy's chest bone, as if it owned her, indicated otherwise. "It can't be that bad. Look," she wriggled her previously punctured hand. "She got me yesterday, too, and the bite has already begun to heal."

He sighed and shook his head. "That's not the point, Andy." He paced at the foot of the bed. "I can't even touch my own girlfriend without that old bitch somehow, indirectly, still ruining everything."

"Hey, don't call Miranda that!"

"You know what, Andy?" He scratched his stubbly chin and then shook his head, flicking his droopy gaze between the brunette and the mink. "You need to get your priorities straight and figure out if this," he pointed between himself and Andy, "still means something to you."

"Nate..." she tried, but his raised hand stopped her.

"No, Andy. You need to figure out some stuff." He grabbed his jeans and slipped them over his boxers. "It's not normal to be attached to one's boss the way you are to Miranda." Giving her a long, meaningful look he pulled a sweatshirt over his head. "I'm gonna crash at Lily's for a while. Find me when you've made up you mind about who exactly you want to have a relationship with."

Frozen in shock, the brunette watched him grab his keys and leave the apartment. She didn't dare look at Miranda as Nate's words began to sink in. What exactly had he been implying? Surely he couldn't have meant that she was... no way!

Shaken by the sudden flush to her face she pushed the fluffy editor off her and rolled out of bed.

"Andrea," Miranda began gently.

"No... I... I need to be alone for a while..." Dizzy from the onslaught of sudden realisation Andy staggered into the bathroom and closed the door behind her with a soft click. Backing against the cool wood she allowed herself to sink to the floor where she pulled up her knees and hugged them tightly as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

The sense of loss was strong, but it didn't seem to be all about Nate. In fact, she appeared to be a lot more distraught about the sudden loss of her apparent denial and innocence when it came to Miranda, than about the scruffy young man's departure. In her heart she had been aware of the fading feelings for her boyfriend for quite some time, and a confrontation and breakup had been more or less inevitable. Facing what the editor truly meant to her, though, was daunting... and it would change _everything_.

She wiped her face with the back of her arm and gazed up at the filthy ceiling, as if searching for approval to finally let go. It was true, Miranda meant a lot more to her than a direct employer should. Over the past few months the older woman had become the most important individual in Andy's life and the brunette hadn't even noticed. Andy closed her eyes as she remembered the editor's human face and a reluctant smile stole onto her lips.

Miranda was incredibly attractive and Andy had always known that. However _knowing_ and _being aware_, where two different things. Intellectually, the brunette had been drawn to the fashion maven almost from the beginning - as soon as the dust of the shocking, first scathing remarks had settled. And in the time she had worked for the editor, Andy had slowly become privy to the gentler, more private side of Miranda. Brief glimpses of the woman behind the ice-cold diva mask had stirred a sense of kinship within the brunette that had motivated her to excel at every task her boss had given.

Taking a deep breath she wiped away the remainder of her tears. Miranda was certainly not stupid and Andy was convinced the editor had perfectly understood what Nate had been saying. It was likely that, once they had succeeded in their quest to 'make a difference', Andy would need to look for a new job. Until then, she decided, she would make the most of her chance to be around the queen fashion. Even if she missed her human form, the mink was very cute and it curled up on those areas of Andy's body where regular Miranda would never deign to touch.

A soft snort coming from behind her and pulled her from her thoughts. She turned around and lowered her head to look at the gap under the door where she saw a tiny button nose sniffing the air.

"Andrea... are you alright?" Miranda asked.

_Miranda_, who had been turned into a small, fluffy animal and had not complained once about the fact that it was Andy who had decided to take care of her. _Miranda_, who had licked her junior assistant's injured hand and who had crawled onto Andy's chest to sleep, not once, but twice.

The brunette smiled. Yes, she was alright. Tomorrow things might be different, but today she still had a job to do and furry editors to tend to.

With a determined push off the floor she stood and answered, "yes, I'm okay. I'll just take a shower and then we can eat breakfast before I call Roy."

* * *

><p>To Andy's surprise, Miranda had been exceptionally sweet during their shared meal of salmon, fruit and cereal, and as they sat in the Mercedes on their way to work the assistant tried to figure out the reasoning behind it. Was it compassion at the impending separation from her boyfriend? After all, the editor had implied she would divorce Stephen for his infidelity, and that kind of meant that the two women had something significant in common. Or had her boss been disturbed by Nate's rightful insinuations regarding the nature of Andy's feelings for Miranda and now she was trying to appease her assistant until she was human again and would no longer need the brunette?<p>

Lost in thought, Andy absent-mindedly stroked the softness around her neck until she suddenly realised what she was doing and abruptly pulled back her hand as if it had been burned.

"Uhm... sorry," she whispered shyly and tried hard not to notice the heat that radiated off the editor's little body where it was draped across her shoulders.

As comfortable as it might have been for a stroll on the market, Miranda had refused to let Andy carry her around Runway in a shawl. In contrast to the general direction of their mission plan, the editor had instructed her assistant to simply wear her as an accessory. That way she could easily whisper instructions into the brunette's ear and had a perfect view of everything and everyone.

Of course Andy hadn't really minded another opportunity to have Miranda this close, but the image of herself in the mirror right before they had left the apartment, in her borrowed vintage Chanel suit and the beautiful mink lining her jacket, had made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Wasn't that the very image they were trying to change?

When Roy pulled up in front of Elias Clark and the brunette saw the crowd in front of the building, she couldn't suppress a groan. Fate was really making this a day of trials.

"Miranda," she whispered, "maybe you should hide in my bag after all."

"Nonsense," the mink replied. "I'm alive and perfectly happy where I am. Those people have no right to complain."

Andy held on to the warm and fuzzy feeling the editor's admission had caused in her, and she opened the car door and planted her four-inch Louboutin boots onto the curb with new-found confidence.

"_Fur is murder!_" came the first shout as soon as the activists had caught sight of her. The assistant and her perfectly still pet mink hurried across the pavement toward the entrance, and Andy had already spotted the building's security holding the door open for her when another loud shout made her stop in her tracks. "Hey, rich killer bitch, did you tear that skin off the little fella yourself?"

She knew she should keep walking and get out of their way, but the holler had struck a nerve. She wasn't a killer, nor could she keep her cool at the idea of anyone harming Miranda in that way. Slowly, she turned around to face the activists. To her dismay, a girl with bright blue hair and a collection of piercings stood right in front of her, holding up a small balloon that was most likely filled with the kind of ink that would permanently stain anything it touched.

The terror in her face must have shown, because the blue-haired activist began to sneer and, cheered on by her accomplices, was about to lunge forward, when suddenly the small, colourful crowd stopped in their tracks and stared back at Andy with wide eyes. The assistant felt Miranda's small feet claw painfully into her hair as the mink climbed onto her head. From her high vantage point, the editor then appeared to treat the crowd of PETA members to her finest Priestly glare - if the men and women's falling faces were anything to go by.

Andy could not suppress a grin when she gathered the mink back in her arms and allowed the editor to nuzzle her neck. As far as ass-kicking went, the kind that ended with Miranda-snuggles was definitely the best. Pushing her luck she stroked the soft, white fur and whispered, "Good girl." The ever present New York City street noise almost made her miss the mink's content purr, but she heard it, and it added an extra spring to her step when she turned her back to the activists and walked into the building.

Ignoring the security guard's questioning gaze Andy hurried for the elevators, hoping that nobody else had seen Miranda move around. She joined a cabin that was already occupied by a bunch of _clackers _and stared up at the sluggishly changing numbers as they neared Runway's main floor. She was buzzing with positive energy, and pretending that this was just another day at the office for Miranda Priestly's lowly assistant was proving rather difficult when all she wanted was to hug the magnificent mink tightly and roll around on the floor, giggling like a teenager.

She bolted through the doors as soon as they slid open and after a passing wave to the receptionist she sped all the way to her desk in record time. Sadly, Emily was already there.

"Jesus, were you perhaps an elephant in a previous life?" The redhead greeted her without looking up. "I could hear you all the way from the elevator." She then looked up and spotted Miranda who, in the safety of her workplace, had decided to move again and had jumped onto Andy's desk. "And what is _that _doing here? I thought you had taken care of it?"

Nothing seemed to shake Andy's giddiness and she simply grinned and replied, "Uh-huh, I did take good care of her. I fed her a months pay worth of fish and then we cuddled on the couch."

"Ha ha, very funny, Sachs." The Brit rolled her eyes and stood from her chair. "Now tell me what the hell is going on with Miranda and how we are supposed to function without her."

The mink cocked its head at the senior assistant and planted its small, furry butt right in the middle of the table. The junior assistant hung up her coat and then sat down to turn on her computer.

"Miranda won't come into the office for a while so it's up to Nigel to temporarily take over. Any questions he might have I will personally direct to Miranda."

"Why you?" Emily crossed her arms and studied her colleague with scepticism. "I mean, I know you're 'Miss Perfect' and her favourite play thing around the office, but you also have the least amount of experience. It's really not fair."

"I'm sorry, Em. That's just how it is for now, okay? We'll do our best, and once Miranda is back, you'll get your chance."

Andy truly felt bad for the redhead, but she still wouldn't trade places with her for all the money in the world. Being the only one who seemed to be able to understand the editor in mink form was a strange privilege that she more than cherished. Now that she understood how much Miranda truly meant to her it almost felt like this entire situation was _meant _to be. In a way it would provide her with some of the best memories of her life before everything came crashing down and she ultimately had to leave. This was still far better than finding out about her feelings and making a fool out of herself in front of human Miranda, and then be fired without the memories of exciting adventures and peaceful couch snuggles to cling to.

While the junior assistant opened her email and began composing a message to the art department, her furry boss settled down between the keyboard and the brunette's arms. Andy had to suppress another smirk when her colleague was visibly disturbed by the essentially wild animal in the office.

"I still can't believe you brought that thing back here after what happened yesterday." Emily mumbled.

"It's okay, Em. Miranda knows and she's okay with it."

Andy winced at the dramatic scowl that escaped the senior assistant. "Oh please! Miranda isn't 'okay' with anything."

Running her eyes from her boss' furry tail, over her fuzzy back and the tiny ears all the way to those accusing bead eyes, the brunette had to agree. "You're right, Em. She's not exactly 'okay' with this. It's more like... she has accepted the situation and expects us to make the best of it."

The redhead still looked unconvinced, but resigned herself to shaking her head. "I'm going to the beauty department to drop off the new specifications for the Hilfiger shoot. When I get back I expect to find this office free of blood or severed limbs." She frowned at the mink and waved her index finger in the brunette's direction. "I know she may stand to lose a few pounds, but that's no reason to start chewing on staff members." Ignoring Andy's growl of protest she then spun on her heels and walked off through the glass doors.

"Did Emily just a scold me as if I were a small child?" Miranda said, taken aback.

"At least she didn't call you 'fat'," Andy sighed and turned her attention back to her computer screen. She didn't want to waste time with pointless insecurities. In her head she knew she wasn't anywhere near overweight, she just wasn't 'model-thin'. However, since Miranda was the queen of fashion and emaciated women belonged to her group of closer subjects, a feeling of being inadequate and undesirable nagged at the brunette. She let out a sigh and silently scolded herself for developing feelings for someone with such a critical eye.

"You're not, you know?" A whisper pulled her focus back to the mink.

Miranda was looking at her intently and Andy hoped that the animal's cuteness didn't lull her into a false sense of ease. The editor could still lash out and be vicious, and the brunette needed to force herself to not forget that once all this was over, she would most likely have to clean out her desk and move to Australia.

"Not what?" The brunette asked carefully.

"Fat."

The word hung heavily in the air and taunted Andy with a painful sense of _Déjà vu._

"Are you sure about that? Human-you may disagree," she murmured defensively and pretended to busy herself with typing.

"I beg your pardon?" Of course Miranda wouldn't remember each one of the scathing insults she threw around on a daily basis, but to the assistant the dressing down she had received that particular day held a special significance. She regarded the editor with a stare strengthened by renewed hurt.

"Six months ago you called me 'the smart, fat girl'."

"Oh. Well." The mink used one of her paws to nonchalantly scratch behind an ear. "It appears that half a year ago I may have been..." her little eyes landed on Andy's chest seemingly involuntarily, before she raised her gaze back to the brunette's face, "mistaken."

The assistant sniffed sarcastically. "Well yeah, I guess a size-zero model wouldn't make the perfect pillow..."

Miranda sounded almost offended. "Andrea..."

"Six!"

The fashion director's sudden entrance stopped whatever the editor had been about to say. Andy was glad for the interruption. She didn't want to hear how imperfect she was in Miranda's eyes.

"Nigel, good morning," she greeted the bald man and smiled.

"Honey, you need to give me details! I don't believe this Miranda being sick business." He stopped in front of the desk and eyed the ball of fur. "And why is there a mink on your desk?"

"It's a project we... uh, _Miranda _is working on. She wants us to prepare for a photo shoot with nothing but sustainable fake fur coats. And... I'm taking care of this little lady until Miranda gets back."

"Hmmm," Nigel ran his index finger over his chin. "She's an exceptional specimen."

The mink was almost glowing and Andy saw the fur on the creature's neck stand up at the compliment. Andy snorted. Leave it to Miranda to feel a sense of pride about her animal appearance, even if she hadn't had a say in it at all. When the bespectacled man reached out to stroke her fur, though, the editor immediately arched up her back and hissed.

"Careful, I wouldn't touch her if I were you," the brunette warned.

Nigel grinned. "I see mama-bear is very protective of her cub."

"Oh, no-no. This one can take care of herself just fine and she makes all of her own decisions. I'm not speaking for her, I'm just giving you a friendly warning."

His eyebrows rose almost an inch in amusement and he studied the creature as it regally stretched its neck. "Is that so?"

"Uhuh. Just watch." The assistant rolled back her chair and addressed the mink. "Mir...a," she caught herself in the last second, "_Mira_, if you do _not _wish for Nigel to scratch your tummy, jump on my lap!"

With an elegance that should clearly give away who exactly she was, Miranda cocked her head and slithered onto Andy's lap where she rolled herself into the shape of a bagel.

The fashion director snorted. "Neat trick! We should feature you two in Runway. I'm sure a lot of people would welcome a 'faux fur revolution' with you and your furry Miranda-substitute as the poster children.," he chuckled.

Both women's heads jerked up. "Miranda-substitute?" Andy croaked in disbelief.

"Oh come on, Six. The lady dragon is away and there you are, with a little creature you can smother instead, which bears a striking resemblance to said dragon. And you named her 'Mira' of all things."

"Yes... well... s-so?" the brunette stuttered. He couldn't possibly know, could he?

"Sweetie, it's okay to have a crush on your boss," he smiled warmly as he crossed his arms. "Just don't overdo it."

Beet red. That must have been the colour of her face, Andy was sure of it.

"I do _not... _have a... crush on... Miranda," she managed to hiss through gritted teeth. The mink on her lap had gone rigid and the brunette was convinced the editor was going to bolt any second now.

"Six, it's alright." Nigel reached out and patted her hair. "I won't tell a living soul. I just don't want to see you get hurt. You have a big heart and people are prone to take advantage of that."

She felt the tremor of Miranda's inaudible growl travel up her thighs and couldn't help but wince.

"Anyway. I will see which faux fur creations I can find in the closet. Then I will go and sit in for Miranda at the editorial meeting. Call me if you need me!" With a final, supportive smile he sauntered off.

Andy couldn't move. She felt exposed and on the verge of crying. Whereas Nate's words could have possibly contained more than one meaning, what Nigel had said didn't leave any room for speculation. Especially not coupled with Andy´s almost violent reaction. Now Miranda would know for sure. The weight on her lap shifted and Andy closed her eyes in anticipation of the editor's likely escape or verbal attack. When after a few moments nothing seemed to happen, she dared a look down and her breath caught at the sight of Miranda snuggling tightly against her.

"Andrea..." the ball of fur mumbled against her belly. "I hope you know... that I'm not trying to take advantage of you."

The brunette gulped and only managed a half-hearted nod.

"And I don't see you merely as a 'comfy pillow' either," Miranda continued softly. "I'm glad that you're here with me... in this situation. I'm not sure... uhm" the mink appeared to be searching for words. "I'm not sure I would be able to cope this well without you."

Too speechless to respond with words, the assistant lowered her hands and gently stroked the editor's fur. When the mink purred in delight Andy found herself aching to touch Miranda in her human form. She had a hard time swallowing back a sob at how much she missed the older woman's ethereal presence and she hugged the fur ball more firmly against herself.

* * *

><p>Andy was exhausted and her shoulders slumped under the warm fur of the editor as they stood in line at an organic poultry shop to pick out dinner. Their day had been long and stressful, but it had left the brunette with a sense of accomplishment.<p>

The had managed to gather over twenty coats, jackets and wraps that were made from fake fur, to be featured in a last-minute photo shoot the following day. Andy had contacted Annie Leibovitz, who luckily never seemed to decline opportunities to work for Runway and a last-minute call had secured them a group of Miranda-approved models. If all went according to plan they could still include the photos and an accompanying article with the issue that would go to print on Sunday night.

Their deadline was forty-eight hours away, and although Emily had lacked confidence in being able to pull everything off without Miranda around, Nigel had insured her that the editor had managed much tighter time limits in the past, and even delegating through her junior assistant shouldn't prove much of an obstacle.

The lithe, small shape of her boss now balanced expertly on Andy's collar bone to get a better look at fresh quail meat and the brunette had to admit that Miranda possessed an almost inhuman ability to handle every type of situation, no matter how bizarre or impossible, with mind-blowing confidence and skill. There simply didn't appear to be anything the fashion maven could not do, even in the shape of a small, extremely adorable creature with a taste for expensive wild life.

"Well, bye-bye, hard-earned money," the assistant mumbled as she stepped toward the counter for their turn.

"Quit your wining, Andrea. I told you I'd pay you back," the editor hissed as she settled around the brunette's slender neck.

Andy ignored her and offered a friendly smile to the stunned clerk. "Good evening, we'd like two quails..."

"Three!" Came another hiss from around her neck.

"... I mean, _three _quails, please, and ten ounces of the turkey over there." She pointed at the freshly sliced meat.

The man behind the counter still kept a weary eye on the young woman and the white, furry creature on her shoulders, but moved to fulfil their order.

"Anything else?" He asked once he had wrapped up the meat and divided it up into two plastic bags.

Andy quizzically angled her head at her fluffy companion and Miranda looked around the wares one more time.

"Get eggs for tomorrow's breakfast," she said softly and the brunette could hear the editor lick her little snout.

"Uhm, could you add a dozen quail eggs, please?"

The clerk added a pack of eggs to their bags and then moved to the register. "Is that all?"

Before Miranda could inject with further, financially damaging wishes, Andy quickly nodded her head and retrieved her wallet.

"You know," the man began while he entered the separate prices, "we don't really allow pets in here. It's unhygienic."

"Oh," the assistant pulled an apologetic face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't know that. She's just... really picky, so I had to bring her to look at everything you have..."

He studied them for a bit and then allowed a small grin and winked. "It's alright this one time."

Andy beamed back.

"That's thirty-two-dollars-sixty."

Andy's smile vanished.

"Jesus, Mira..." she caught herself again before she could say the editor's full name. "You're going to bankrupt me with your delicate palate..."

She paid while the mink comfortably dug her claws through the fabric of Andy's jacket and snuggled closer, ignoring the brunette's whining.

"Can you just believe that man," Miranda mumbled once they had stepped outside. "Calling me 'unhygienic'!"

"Well... you _are_ an animal with lots of hair. _Pretty_ hair," Andy boldly stroked over the editor's head and was delighted when the mink leaned into her touch. "But it does still get dirty."

The editor gave a defiant growl, but the brunette smirked and couldn't help the extra bounce in her step.

"When we get home I'll run you a bath. Mink are crazy about water. You can have a swim while I prepare dinner. How does that sound?"

"I guess," the furry creature sighed with feigned disinterest.

Images of preparing a delicious meal while human Miranda relaxed in tub full of foamy goodness after a hard day at work flooded Andy's mind and she swallowed back the wave of tense sadness that threatened to rise from her stomach. Granted, after her boss' speech this morning at the office, about not taking advantage of Andy, the brunette had somewhat regained a bit of confidence that she might not immediately get fired once everything was back to normal. However, her insecurities and the intense longing for human-Miranda, still appeared to strangle whatever happiness Andy felt in her interactions with the mink.

She walked toward her apartment building, the bags of food swinging heavily from one hand as she rummaged in her purse for her keys. No. She had sworn to make the best of the time she was allowed to spend with small, furry Miranda, and so she would. The universe had a strange sense of humour, but this unique situation was more Andy could have ever hoped for. She realised that no matter what hurtful actions her boss would undertake after this... adventure, the time her and the editor had spent together like this was special, and it would connect them forever.

Before she could raise the key to the outside lock, the front door burst open and Nate nearly crashed into them.

"Oh, hey. There you are!" He stepped out onto the side walk and gave her an accusing stare. "I've been trying to phone you all day. I know you can't live without that stupid phone of yours so you must have been screening my calls or something..."

Startled by the sudden appearance of the unkempt young man Andy could only stutter. "N-nate... I'm sorry I..."

Then she realised what must have happened, however how could she possibly explain to her, most likely soon-ex-boyfriend, that she had put her phone on 'silent' in order to fake a large number of calls to Miranda, who in return had simply been answering in that secret whisper which appeared to be inaudible to others. The brunette knew that even the best excuse wouldn't be good enough for Nate, so she decided against trying and simply shrugged her shoulders, mindful of her furry companion.

"I need more time..."

"More time?" He sent an incredulous stare up into the windy evening sky and let his arms fall against his sides with a loud slap. "Actually, it's really simple, Andy." He gave her that pout and goofy expression which might have once softened her heart, but now only managed to annoy the brunette, before declaring, "it's me or _her_."

"What?" The assistant wasn't sure she had heard correctly.

"Choose. Me or Miranda," he said with a face that revealed he wasn't just serious, no, he also seemed to harbour little hope that Andy would actually pick him. And how could she? Miranda meant the world to her, she had admitted that much to herself already. And regardless of what might happen once the spell was broken, she would still always choose the editor.

Over Nate... over anyone.

Andy tried to convey through her eyes how truly sorry she was and how much she regretted disappointing the person she had once called her best friend and with whom she had set out onto the long road toward adulthood.

Nate lowered his head until his chin hung against his chest, before looking up at his former girlfriend with a sad smile. "Yeah, I thought so."

"Nate... I..."

"No... Andy, I get it. I'm just me. Boring, old Nate," he combed roughly through his curls. "I can't compete with a _queen_."

Miranda sniffed as if she were agreeing, but the brunette couldn't leave it at that.

"It's not about that, Nate..." she tried to put order to her thoughts and be as honest with him as she dared out on the New York sidewalk. "It's not about you as a person. You're not boring or inadequate... it's just..."

"She's better," he threw out with a defeated, little laugh.

"Nate..."

Guilt had a tight grip on Andy and the obvious pain in his face made it hard to say the things she needed to get out if they were really breaking up out here in the open. She swallowed hard against the tears and the nausea that spilled over her from the awareness of Miranda hearing every single word.

"You realise nothing will ever happen between... _her _and me... and this isn't something I ever planned... or did to... to hurt you, Nate."

He gave her a long, pained look and sighed. "Yeah, I know that... and_ of course_ nothing would happen, Andy. You're way too good for her." With a timid laugh that drowned out the mink's protesting growl Nate reached up to cup the brunette's cheek. "You have a big heart, and I've always suspected that it went beyond the boundaries of just us males..."

"Wha...?"

"I didn't mind, Andy." He continued. "It was cool to comment on the women we saw on TV together and stuff... it never bothered me," he returned his hand to his side and took a step back, "as long as you stayed with _me_."

He gave her another long look and Andy realised that this was it. This was goodbye to the years they had spent together and the connection they had once shared.

"Now I understand that I need to let you go," he finished with a small grin that, although it was supposed to make Andy feel better, still tore down the last barriers and allowed the brunette's tears to fall freely.

"I will come back for my stuff once I found a new place."

The junior assistant just nodded as tracks of wetness formed across her cheeks and jaw line.

"You go take your time and figure yourself out."

With a final, crooked smirk he turned around and walked away.

Andy was completely stunned and unable to move as she watched him disappear around the corner. Only the cold sensation of the wind blowing against the salty tracks on her face snapped her out of it and she couldn't prevent the shiver, filled with a multitude of emotions, that crawled up and through her. She needed to get out of the freezing air and into the safety of her apartment, where she could attempt to glue back together the pieces of her that had just burst out into all directions of the wind.

She dried her cheeks, pushed through the front door and hurried up the stairs.

So, Nate had apparently sensed that she had a thing for... women. How could he have known, when she herself hadn't even been aware? _Well, not exactly. _She thought of Miranda's creamy shoulders that had been exposed by the breathtaking Valentino creation during the benefit ball, and the resulting flush to her cheeks didn't as much embarrass her as it was exciting. No body part of Nate's had ever had that effect on her.

Shaking her head, she stepped into the apartment and allowed the mink to jump down, before she placed the bags of fresh meat on the kitchen table. Things were likely going to be very awkward now that she had essentially revealed to her boss that she'd pick her, even over her own boyfriend. The editor might appear harmless as a fluffy ball of fur, but behind the cute button nose and the round, little eyes was still Miranda, unchanged and unrestrained. Most likely, after a short period of brooding would come the nasty insults and the ridicule of what Andy had just laid bare. She deposited the quails, turkey meat and eggs into the fridge and turned back to the mink on the couch.

"Uhm... would you like me to phone the girls before you take your bath? I don't know what their bed time is on non-school nights, but it's past nine and I don't want to risk waking them up."

"Yes, that's... fine." Miranda sounded cautious and the brunette suppressed a cringe.

"Okay." So the evening would consist of walking around on eggshells around each other. Great.

Ever the efficient assistant, Andy had brought the editor's private cell phone and she pushed speed-dial for Cassidy's number.

"Mom!" The phone was picked up after just one ring.

"Uhm... hi there. This isn't your mom, but her assistant."

A second voice come from the background, "Cass, what's wrong?"

"It's not Mom, but an assistant." The twin answered her sister and then turned her attention back to the phone.

"Which one are you? The annoying one who always rolls her eyes at us, or the nice one who got us Harry Potter, even after we pulled a prank on her?"

"I'm the one who got you 'Deathly Hallows'," the brunette said, not without a sense of pride as she freely allowed herself to grin into the phone.

"_An-dray-uhhh..._cool!" came Caroline's pleased voice from the background but her sister seemed to be more focused on the matter at hand.

"Where's Mom? Why hasn't she called us yesterday?"

Andy sat down on the couch so she was closer to Miranda and then spoke, "Your mom's right here, but she has... lost her voice and can't speak with you. I have you guys on 'speaker' so she can hear you and she's..." the brunette looked down into the stoic, furry face, "she's writing down what I should ask you."

"Oh... okay..."

"How did she lose her voice?" Cassidy was clearly the more sceptical of the two.

"She has a... a cold. Nothing bad, though. She had to tell us off for being stupid, incompetent idiots too many times today... and that was a bit much for her throat, I'm afraid." The twins giggled and Miranda rolled her little eyes.

"Uh-oh... now she's rolling her eyes at me, You guys better go ahead and tell her about your time at your dad's..."

Caroline and Cassidy laughed even louder at that, but soon their excitement to share their day's events with their mom won, and they took turns recounting a visit to the zoo and a bribe to behave (consisting of rainbow fudge and strawberry milkshakes), before going into details about the many pranks they had played on their father's new girlfriend in the short time-frame of a single day.

Andy enjoyed watching Miranda's expressions as she listened to the twins' banter, and she gladly relayed the editor's comments and half-hearted scolding back to the girls who seemed happy to hear from their mom, in one way or another.

After a cheerful and oddly comfortable forty-five minutes, they said their goodbyes and Miranda made the assistant promise that they'd phone again the next day, before Andy hung up the phone.

"Wow," the brunette tried to hold on to the light mood. "I feel kind of sorry for Felicity. The girls seemed to have had a blast ruining her day."

The mink sniffed in slight amusement. "Well, they certainly seem to be stepping up their game. They have never liked any of their father's girlfriends." Her left hind leg began to absentmindedly scratch behind one of her little ears. "I see a pattern in their dislike for step parents ... they've also never liked Stephen."

At the mention of her adulterous husband, the editor stared into nothingness for a while, and Andy felt a storm of renewed loathing brew for the idiot who had been stupid enough to cheat on Miranda Priestly. How could a man, who had a wife as magnificent as the queen of fashion, want to try his luck elsewhere? Her rage at Stephen caused Andy's fists to clench to an almost painful extend and she had to quickly get up from the couch to prevent from crying out in frustration.

The editor looked at her puzzled and Andy meekly pointed in the direction of the bathroom and stammered, "I'll... uhm... I'll just go and draw your bath." Before Miranda could say anything in return, the brunette had already made her way across the apartment and was filling the crummy old tub with water.

* * *

><p>That night Andy's dreams weren't scary. At least, that depended on what exactly classified simply as 'weird' and what would be considered bordering on 'frightful'.<p>

Morpheus had brought her to a large pool in the middle of a forest and she found herself gently floating in the clear water as mink-Miranda swam elegant circles around her. It was a peaceful place, surrounded by softly swaying oak trees and bird song. The white, little creature shot through the water like a champion, twisting its body and using the slight webbing of its feet to propel itself forward and under the brunette, who watched Miranda's antics with a giggle.

Then suddenly the animal was gone and a warm, decidedly human and rather naked body pressed against her from behind, hugging her firmly as a characteristic nose nuzzled Andy's neck. The human queen of fashion let her palms roam across her junior assistant's body in gentle underwater caresses and the brunette lost herself in the sensation of being worshipped. Her eyes closed and she succumbed to the feelings that nearly drowned her, were it not for the strong arms holding her so tenderly around her middle.

When she opened her eyes again the water was buzzing with activity. Little white and brown flashes shot by under the surface and here and there a tiny, fuzzy head came up for air. A whole army of mink children was surrounding them and the brunette heard their human voices call out.

"Mommy! Mommy, look! I caught my first fish!" A particularly small cub yelled happily around its mouthful of trout and swam eagerly toward Andy. She swept the tiny thing up into her palms and hugged it close to her chest, before staring intently into its brown bead eyes.

"That's fantastic, Darling! I'm so proud of you!" She heard herself say. "Mira, look what a big fish! Our youngest son takes after you!"

Mink-Miranda came and slithered through the water around Andy's waist, her wet fur softly scratching against the brunette's skin. Andy wiggled her body and found that she had all of a sudden turned into a mink herself, and with her chest full of warmth and happiness she curled herself around Miranda's lithe form under the water surface and pressed their little button noses together.

"I'm so proud of our little family," she sighed blissfully and nuzzled the other mink's whiskers.

Blue-green eyes sparkled and Miranda whispered, "lets have more children, Andrea. One can never have enough!"

And has sharp teeth began to nibble at the fur on her neck the noise of at least three dozen, overly excited mink cubs tore through the serene forest and roused a sense of panic in Andy.

The junior assistant woke with a start and her eyes flew open almost instantly. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the weak morning light, but the soft, regular, little puffs of air against her lips explained the origin of at least one part of her crazy dream. The brunette was curled up on her side with the mink slumbering peacefully right in front of her face. Miranda's surprisingly dry nose was pressed against Andy's and her fluffy body pressed warmly into the assistant's palms.

Her eyes widened, but Andy was too terrified to move. When had Miranda crawled into bed with her? Why had she allowed Andy to touch her? Unless she hadn't, and as soon as the mink would wake up, the brunette's face would become a bloody battlefield. She gulped.

She remembered kneeling on the faded bathroom tiles and watching Miranda swim around in the shallow water. Arms folded on the rim of the tub, she had followed the editor's every move to make sure she didn't drown. A fear that had turned out unfounded, because just like with anything else, the editor had taken to this specific trait of being a mink rather well. After almost an hour of, what had looked suspiciously like a lot of fun, and the occasional awkward grooming that had caused Andy to sheepishly avert her gaze, the assistant had scooped up the drenched but clean queen of fashion into a large towel and had rubbed her dry.

There had been no complaints or protesting and in no time at all the brunette and her boss, whose hair had entered a previously unknown state of ultra-fluffiness, had settled down in the kitchen for their evening meal. Then they had moved to the living room where Miranda had proceeded to go over the book, not without commenting on her assistant's sloppy shorthand while the brunette had written on the multicoloured post-it notes. Andy still could not recall exactly how they had made it to bed, though. Her memory ended with a final, sleepy planning session of today's photo shoot, on the couch.

The mink began to stir and a sudden yawn presented Andy with a very proximate close-up of those sharp, little teeth. She shuddered at the ghosts of those teeth on her her skin where Miranda had accidentally bitten her hand, but then a ripple of a different nature rolled along her spine when she recalled the way the teeth had felt against her own furry neck in the dream.

Closing her jaw, Miranda blinked open her eyes and gazed at her assistant. Andy's hands were still gently cupping the mink's small body and for a second the brunette was convinced that the editor would scratch out her eyes or take a large chomp out of her nose. However, none of that happened and it almost felt as if Miranda were actually snuggling into Andy's touch. Quite likely possessed by the wish to challenge death, Andy found herself stroking softly through the fur on the editor's little, rounded belly.

Instead of scolding her, Miranda released a sound not unlike the purr of a lazy kitten and rolled onto her back and curled her front paws around the brunette's hand to keep it in place. The uncharacteristic move stirred up new panic in Andy. Had Miranda lost part of her humanity and was the animal inside starting to take over? Why else would the 'Snow Queen', the 'Dragon Lady', encourage her junior assistant to scratch her belly? This situation had reached a completely new stage of ridiculous.

Andy attempted to pull back her fingers and whispered, "M-Miranda... are you still in there?"

An annoyed flick of the head back into her direction confirmed the editor's displeased growl. "Of course I'm still 'in here', Andrea. Do you think I can just leave this inconvenient, little body as I please? If that were the case I wouldn't be here at all."

_Ouch._

The mink released its grip on her hand and Andy sheepishly removed her arms and rolled out of bed on the opposite side. The alarm clock's red digits announced that it wasn't quite seven-thirty yet, however they had a long, stressful Saturday ahead of them, and if Miranda was going to be this moody Andy needed as much of a head start as she could manage.

"You should go back to sleep. I'll shower and make breakfast, and then we can eat before the trip to the studio."

The editor didn't acknowledge her with as much as a nod and rudely turned her fluffy, white back toward the assistant.

"Right," the brunette sighed and padded into the bathroom. She definitely needed a hot shower. What had possessed her to touch Miranda after everything the editor had heard the previous day? No wonder the mink had snapped at her. The fashion maven had probably been driven by animal instincts to lean into the touch and nothing more.

As Andy stripped down and stepped into the shower she worried about what would happen should they not succeed. The longer Miranda stayed a mink, the more likely she might slowly surrender to the animal's DNA. The brunette's heart nearly skipped a beat. What if she lost the older woman completely? She really didn't want to think about that. The sense of loss was already strong now, but at least the editor's personally was still intact. What if it vanished, too, just like her beautiful human body?

A dull pain pounded through her head when she hit the back of it against the tiled wall under the scorching spray of the shower. She failed miserably to block out the still lingering, dream-induced memory of Miranda's warm skin pressing into her, and with a frustrated groan she turned the thermostat to cold.

_Life is not fair,_she whined to herself as the freezing water shook her awake, one goose bump at a time.

* * *

><p>"Wow, this stuff feels so real," Andy declared while trailing her fingers through, what at a first glance could certainly pass as real fur.<p>

"Yes, Darling. Now remove your grabby claws before you ruin this delicate creation," Nigel said sternly, but not with without a hint of good-natured humour.

The atmosphere at the shoot was surprisingly pleasant. Annie's work usually made things flow easily, however now that Miranda wasn't giving direct, scathing orders, but communicated through the pacified sweetness of her junior assistant, everyone was positively relaxed. Nigel appeared to be rather proud of having prepared the shoot so quickly and the models liked the clothes and seemed intrigued when Andy told them more about the idea behind the spread.

It surprised the brunette that there apparently was a high interest in the development of organic alternatives. Promoting the use of fake fur was one thing, however as Miranda had explained to her earlier, the process of its creation was still damaging to the environment, because of the toxic by-products and the fact that it was nowhere near bio-degradable. Runway's writing staff had been saddled with clear instructions to stress this point and engage the readers to not only wonder about animal friendly fibres, but also actively seek more information on the stagnating research into organic approaches such as cotton.

The investigative journalist inside Andy was tickled awake, and as she watched the skinny women model one coat after another, she was already spinning up the skeletal framework of the possible article. If only she were allowed to write it, but no such luck. She was merely an assistant, recently promoted to pet sitter, and instead of writing a piece that might very well change the way the world viewed fur, she found herself faking phone calls to Miranda and fetching Nigel's coffee.

The latter action sufficiently worsened the editor's mood and she held a long speech about Andy being _her _assistant, and nobody else's.

"Well, I had nothing else to do," the brunette whispered in defence.

"That is no excuse for my Fashion Director to abuse your good will." Miranda spat angrily. "Wasn't it him who said, only just yesterday if memory serves me well, that you should watch out for people taking advantage of your precious heart?"

"Uhm... I guess..." Andy was a bit taken aback by the editor's rant.

Things between them were still awkward. Granted, Miranda hadn't left the safety of the brunette's shoulders all day, however other than channelling her comments and orders through her assistant the editor had not spoken to Andy directly since they had gotten up that morning. If it weren't for the softness moving against her neck and the occasional model squealing in delight at the adorable creature, Andy could have almost sworn that Miranda wasn't there at all, and that the editor's constant rattle of commands was merely a masochistic manifestation inside the brunette's head.

The shoot was being suspended for a ten-minute break and Andy sneaked off into a small storage room off the main hallway. She sat down on a large, black box of lighting equipment and released a heavy sigh when Miranda glided off and down her arm to get comfortable in a nest of cables.

A heavy silence engulfed them as muffled noises from the bustling activities outside attempted to steal their way into the confined space. The assistant sheepishly rubbed at the silk stockings covering her knees and chanced a glance at the mink. Small, blue-green eyes studied her thoughtfully and Andy finally caved.

"Miranda, please don't be angry with me any more. It's already tough enough when you're displeased as my boss, but now that we're more or less stuck together like this, it's really..." she swallowed and looked down to her lap, "weighing me down."

The furry, white head perked up and Andy saw confusion in the almost anthropomorphised features.

"Angry with _you_?"

"Uhm... well, yes." The brunette mumbled, knowing full well that Miranda didn't owe her an explanation and that she probably shouldn't have brought this up to begin with. Despite their situation the editor was still her boss and although a pat on the head and an occasional public scratch behind those little protruding ears might have been acceptable for authenticity's sake, trailing her fingers across the mink's exposed belly was something else entirely. It was the difference between shaking someone's hand and fondling their butt.

"You haven't really said anything to me, since this morning..."

"That's not true," Miranda interrupted. "I believe I've done nothing other than talk all day."

Andy raised her eyes back to the slightly flustered creature. "You know what I mean, Miranda. You've been avoiding me. And I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me in bed earlier, but I promise it won't happen again! Just please, talk to me again."

The editor regarded her quietly, assessing her with that typical Priestly scrutiny. If a mink could have chewed on its bottom lip, that's what Miranda would have done right then.

"What makes you so sure that I'm angry?"

The assistant's head jerked up, surprised at the gentle tone.

"Maybe I'm simply... embarrassed?"

A frown crept on the brunette's forehead. "So I embarrassed you?" She grimaced. "That's not any better. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable..."

The mink smacked its tongue in frustration and rolled its eyes. "Oh for god's sake, Andrea. As unusual as it may sound, not everything is your fault. If you used your head instead of constantly apologising, you'd remember that it was me who rolled over and pinned down your hand." A soft scarlet crawled up under the snowy fur and gave the little creature a pinkish tint. "I'm embarrassed of _my own_behavior, which is something..." she shifted and turned her long neck to the side, "... that I am unaccustomed to."

"Oh..." was all Andy could muster as she found herself strangely torn between cheering about the fact that she wasn't to be blamed, and giving a shriek of delight at how adorable the mink looked at that moment.

"Yes. _'Oh'_," Miranda said with a pinch of sarcasm that made her sound more like her confident, usual self again.

"It is most likely the effect of being stuck in this body, but I don't necessarily mind... being touched," she continued.

The brunette softened her gaze and cocked her head to imply that she was listening attentively, all the while her heart was beating more rapidly by the second, drowning out anything but Miranda's voice.

"I..." the editor slowly pressed on. "It's disconcerting how large everything is from my perspective, and I find myself... worried... that someone might squash or trample me. Not to mention that I fear we may fail or misinterpret our mission and I could be stuck... like this... forever... never being able to hold the twins in my arms again..."

Her eyes found Andy's, and the brunette saw how truly upset Miranda was.

"I find myself able to relax... and I feel less... _frightened _in your presence."

The urge to clutch against the harsh hammering in her chest was strong, but Andy just sat rigidly in her spot, staring at her boss' adorable face.

"Your touch soothes me, Andrea."

Spanning the distance between them like a heavy steel cable, the last sentence fastened the brunette to Miranda's shining eyes and she was unable to look away. The small hairs on the back of her neck rose as the intensity of the moment grabbed a hold of her and threatened to rob her of her courage. However, after what felt like minutes of drowning in each other, it was the editor who had to avert her gaze, the significance of which, did not escape Andy.

There was... _something_.

The brunette was too cautious to question or ponder what exactly it could be, but this wasn't the first moment they had shared. Actually, when she thought about it, in the past few months there had been gazes, locked maybe a tad longer than was necessary, fingers accidentally brushing more softly than was needed, and she remembered more than a few silences that had stretched between them comfortably - yet also with a certain awkwardness - _before _Miranda had been turned into a cute, fluffy animal.

Warmth, stemming from something akin to hope, fluttered awake in the assistant and she carefully lifted her hand in the mink's direction.

"Come here."

The uncertainty in Miranda's eyes, when she looked up, made Andy's heart clench, and she offered a warm smile.

"Please, come here," she whispered, not as much pleading for herself as she was offering solace for the woman who had just revealed her fears.

Carefully, the editor crawled back onto Andy's lap, where she balanced on her hind legs and pressed her front paws against the brunette's chest.

"Miranda, I don't mind touching you, either," the assistant spoke quietly. For emphasis she gently used her palm to stroke from the mink's perky head, along the fluffy, white neck, all the way down to its tail, feeling the little creature lean into the touch. Empowered by the knowledge that the editor actually enjoyed this, she pushed up under the furry bum and cradled Miranda in her arms, holding her close and continuing to stroke the soft fur.

"We'll end the spell and you'll be back to normal in no time! I promise. I won't allow anything to come between you and your daughters," she mumbled soothingly, and to her surprise and utter pleasure, the little button nose pressed gently against her own. The editor's tiny puffs of breath ghosted across the brunette's lips as she whispered, "Thank you."

Andy smiled and pulled Miranda closer, allowing the mink to curl up and snuggle below her collar bone.

The suddenly opened door startled them but Andy didn't let go.

"There you are." Nigel poked his head through into the room. He studied the two of them for a moment and an unsettling smile appeared on his lips that indicated an idea was forming in his mind.

"We're ready to continue. You may inform Miranda that I sent the first batch to her via email."

The assistant nodded and made a grab for her phone while still stroking her other hand lightly over the mink's smooth hair. Nigel released a "hmmm" and fully stepped into the room, giving Andy a look that froze the young woman's thumb above the speed dial button.

"You two truly make a magnificent image. I wonder..." He rubbed his chin between a thumb and index finger and looked from the brunette to the mink. "Six, would you mind if we tried something? I'll talk to Annie. I think it could work."

"Uhm..." Andy felt the mink stiffen in her arms, but no advice was forthcoming, so she nodded gingerly, sensing that her day was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

* * *

><p>The ride back to her apartment was painfully quiet, and Andy watched the world fly by outside the tinted car window with a permanent blush to her cheeks. The awkwardness between Miranda and her was definitely back, and it had been intensified by Nigel's 'brilliant' idea of having the junior assistant pose in front of the camera in nothing but... <em>her boss<em>. It was supposed to be a slight stab at the "Fur? No thanks! I'd rather go naked" campaign, and of course the fashion director couldn't know what exactly he was getting her into. The brunette had been too stunned, and Miranda's total silence hadn't helped either. Had the editor given even the slightest sign of protest, Andy would have said 'no', and they could have prevented the big chasm of shame that now hung between them.

The mink was curled-up on the leather seat beside her as Roy drove them through the streets of lower Manhattan. Never in a million years had Andy imagined that she would model, let alone in the nude. Well, technically she had been wearing a skin-coloured thong, and Miranda's soft body had been covering her nipples... _Oh god..._

She fought the urge to groan, not wishing to draw the editor's attention. Nigel had assured her that it would ultimately be Miranda's decision what to do with the images, _if_ they even used them, but the mink had remained silent and the uncertainty wrecked havoc in Andy's head.

Of course she realised that she wasn't fat. In her head she knew that she had a great body, no matter how many of her skeletal colleagues tried to tell her otherwise. Sharing her naked self with the world, however, wasn't exactly what she had envisioned as her path toward fame. Not to mention that the realisation that Miranda had not only seen her almost completely naked, but had also nuzzled against her exposed chest, whiskers tickling her skin, was utterly mortifying.

Deep down Andy knew that the editor would never run any pictures of her against her will and she doubted Miranda would consider displaying a plain and boring girl such as her junior assistant to begin with, but that knowledge did nothing to quench the anxiety in Andy's stomach.

Strangely enough _during _the shoot she had been in a kind of trance, bravely following the photographer's and Nigel's instructions and actually holding on to the fact that Miranda was with her. The editor's presence had made her feel safe, the furry body not only shielding her physically, but also putting up an invisible barrier between them and the rest of the studio. The mink may have remained quiet, but her eyes had reassured Andy and warmed her against the chill in the former warehouse.

When the car slowed down in her street, the assistant turned around and reached out to gently touch her slumbering boss.

"We're here," she whispered still a bit wary of waking the mink. The small puncture marks on her palm were hardly noticeable now, however the moment when those teeth had sunk into her, still wasn't something she remembered fondly.

Miranda rose, stretched her back with a yawn and then crawled up into waiting arms without a single word. At least Andy now knew that the editor wasn't angry and that the embarrassment was likely mutual. She said goodnight to Roy, and grabbing her bag, she cradled the mink against her chest and walked up to her building.

The trip up the stairs allowed the day's exhaustion to fully manifest itself inside her arms and legs and Andy exhaled sharply against her bangs once they had reached her floor. Several nights of almost no sleep and a lot of emotional drainage had left the assistant weakened, and she pushed through the door to her apartment with a loud sigh. She set the editor down on the carpet to allow her a few minutes of freedom while Andy herself would tackle dinner.

She prepared the left-over turkey, tearing the meat in smaller pieces for her boss and making a sandwich for herself, before dragging herself to the couch and collapsing into the cushion next to Miranda.

"Here you go." She placed a plate in front of the mink and then slipped out of her high heels and tucked her feet underneath herself. The editor eyed her sceptically.

"Really, Andrea. _Dior_... wrinkled... on this couch... and eating a sandwich? You realise that borrowing clothes from the _Closet _isn't a right, it's a privilege?"

Too tired to argue, and not entirely convinced by the half-hearted scolding, Andy just shrugged her shoulders and took a big bite from her food. After swallowing, she replied, "I'm too exhausted to change, and besides, you're shedding and this blouse will need to get thoroughly cleaned before I can return it anyway."

Button nose pointing into the air, Miranda sniffed. "Well, it's not like I can help it." She then eyed the turkey and slowly began to eat.

"It's alright, when we're done here I'll brush your fur. I still have Yuki's grooming kit lying around somewhere."

They finished their meal in silence and then Andy got up to change. She was sure her choice of attire would elicit some kind of witty vocal reaction, and she wasn't disappointed when she returned to the living room in her most comfortable and baggy sweatpants and the beloved Northwestern hoodie pulled over her hair.

"I realise you don't live in the best of neighbourhoods, Andrea, but does that mean you have to dress like a thug?"

The brunette snorted and adjusted her walk by slightly sinking through her knees with each step and opening her arms in a rather 'gangsta' way. She pointed the pet brush in Miranda's direction and lowered her voice.

"You talkin' to me, Lady?"

Miranda's sudden laugh took her by surprise. She imagined the editor's human face as the pleasant sound curled itself around her heart, and it knocked all playfulness right out of her. Would she ever get to see the older woman laugh like that again? Even if they managed to break the spell, there was no guarantee that the editor would still seek Andy's presence in a social setting that allowed for unbridled laughter.

She sat down cross-legged on the couch with a heavy sadness pressing against her chest and she gingerly pulled the cotton hood away from her head. Miranda must have noticed her distress, because the mink stopped chuckling and then crawled carefully onto Andy's lap.

"Are you alright?" The editor asked softly, searching her assistant's eyes as her paws sunk into the thin cotton of Andy's pants.

"Yeah... I just..." the brunette faltered and trailed an index finger gently along the furry creature's jaw, fighting against the burning sensation in her eyes.

"I... miss you." The words left the safety of her lips before she could reign them in. Miranda seemed puzzled for a moment, no doubt on the verge of stating that she was right there on Andy's lap, but then realisation seemed to dawn on her and her gaze softened.

"Oh..."

"Yes. 'Oh'," the assistant replied, relaying Miranda's earlier response back to her and hoping that the meaning behind what she had just revealed wouldn't further embarrass her boss.

After a few seconds of looking at each other the mink sighed and draped itself across Andy's legs.

"I believe you were about to groom me," she dead-panned and managed to pull a small smile from the brunette's lips with her sassiness.

And so Andy slowly began running the soft brush through Miranda's fur. Before long the mink began to purr contently with each stroke and the assistant almost got lost in the oddly calming, repetitive motion.

"I'm sorry that we didn't get around to speak to the twins today..." she began, hoping that the editor was pacified enough to allow for more personal conversation.

"I hate disappointing them," Miranda said quietly, lost in thought. "I try to make more time,... but it's hard."

A tense sigh escaped the small creature and Andy paused the grooming for a moment to caress encouragingly behind the little ears. Miranda relaxed again and the brunette continued the soothing strokes with the brush.

"It's going to be tough on them... going through another divorce."

The junior assistant blinked. So Miranda was really going to get rid of that jerk Stephen! Andy tried not to squeal in delight.

"The press isn't very kind to me, and although I don't care what anybody writes about me,... the girls..." her furry, little body heaved with another laden sigh, "they're not supposed to read those things, but they do. And it upsets them."

Gentling her movement, Andy gave an unseen nod. "I can understand that."

Miranda lifted her head and fixed her with a questioning gaze, so the brunette elaborated.

"It upsets me, too, all those hideous lies they write about you." Andy stopped and placed the brush on the pillow next to her. "It changed my view on the press... and I'm re-evaluating my future career choices."

The editor looked thoroughly intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Andy's hand found its way back to soft, white fur and she continued to stroke Miranda while she explained.

"Well, I've always dreamed about working at a daily newspaper. I've had this idea that bringing news to the people was something... _noble_." A cynical snort escaped her. "But now, after more or less glimpsing the other side of it, I'm... questioning that world. I'm thinking about maybe writing for a magazine instead. I like the pace at Runway and I think I'd prefer writing lengthy articles on in-depth subjects... you know, do proper research and really get involved before writing about something..."

A yawn crept up on her and she felt her jaw crack from the force of it.

"You should go to bed, Andrea."

Miranda's features had softened and she nuzzled Andy's palm, trying to hide a yawn of her own, but the other woman saw it and it clutched at her heart.

"Come on, let's go," the brunette offered as she gently picked up the little ball of fur.

The editor snuggled her head into the crook of Andy's neck and they made their way into the bedroom. Torn almost in half my another powerful yawn, the assistant decided against slipping into her pajamas and simply let herself drop backward onto the mattress, taking Miranda with her.

Already half asleep, she managed to drag the sheets up and over them, before she curled up on her side and pressed the mink tightly to herself.

"M'randa?"

Slumber clawed at her consciousness and she felt the fluffy, little head press against her neck.

"Yes?"

"When all this is over and you're _you _again," she snuggled into the pillow, "please don't send me away."

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea. Why would I do that?" Was the whispered reply, but Andy was too sleepy to answer. Instead, she wrapped a protective hand around Miranda and allowed fatigue to claim her.

* * *

><p>This time Morpheus lured Andy onto spring meadows and she let herself sink into the tall, soft grass. She looked up at the azure sky, where white, puffy clouds in the shape of little mink were chasing across the blue expanse. Wild flowers, reaching into the heavens, framed her view and they waved gently in a breeze that picked up and died down again like waves lovingly brushing against the shore. Sunshine kissed her cheeks and tip of the nose, and Andy felt a wonderful sense of contentment. She was safe and happy.<p>

Her attention was drawn to supple warmth beneath her head, and suddenly a face came into view from above, blocking the sun. Andy realised that she was lying on a lap and the dark silhouette leaning over her slowly materialised into Miranda. The older woman was smiling down on her, white forelock flowing in the wind in sync with the soft swish of the grasses surrounding them, and Andy felt herself reach up and tenderly tuck the unruly strands behind the editor's ear.

Gentle fingers brushed over her cheek in return, and the brunette pushed herself off the ground to sit up and face the other woman. Leaning forward on one arm, she drew closer to Miranda's face and took in her beautiful, pale skin, the faint sprinkle of freckles on her nose and cheek bones, and the reflection of the blue sky in her eyes. An adorable grin hung on the older woman's lips and Andy carefully raised her hand to slide caressing fingers across that kissable mouth.

Miranda's palms were smooth as silk and wonderfully warm when they cupped her cheeks and began pulling her closer. The gentle breeze played with their hair when lips closed upon lips and Andy's world became one big swirl of overwhelming sensation.

"Andrea..."

Andy didn't want to leave the peaceful spring day.

"Andrea..."

"One more minute..." she mumbled. "Let me just kiss s'more... M'randa.."

"Andrea, wake up."

With an unhappy grumble she slowly fluttered her eyes open against the dreary grey of an overcast October morning.

"Huh?"

She rubbed her eyes and attempted to stretch her way out of the sluggishness that could only come from a long night of deep, restful sleep. Miranda's furry, white shape was perched on the pillow next to her and she regarded the brunette with typical impatience.

"How in the world can a person possibly sleep this long?" The editor sniffed.

Unwilling to be rushed on the one day a week she could more or less relax, Andy sat up slowly and slid her feet over the edge of the bed. Yawning, she thrust her arms straight up into the air and stretched out all the kinks in her shoulders and back, flexing her spine and not caring that her sweatshirt rose up and exposed her midriff.

_It's not like Miranda hasn't seen it before, _was the thought that came to her unbidden, and suddenly the reality of the previous day hit her full force.

"Ugh..."

Rapidly blushing cheeks burned into her palms when Andy attempted to hide her face.

"When you're quite done with your morning theatrics I would like to check my email," the editor spoke unfazed and hopped off the bed.

The assistant rubbed her cheeks awake and swung herself onto her feet.

"God, it's Sunday," she whined. "What _used to be_ my Miranda-free day..."

"I thought you said you'd do _anything _to help me end the spell," the mink said in a perfectly icy Priestly timbre.

Andy knew that tone and she recognised the rather rhetorical question she was still required to answer. "Uhm, yeah... I did. And I meant it..."

"Then quit your whining and get your shapely behind into gear!"

_Did she just say 'shapely'...?_

The brunette decided to test the waters when the editor continued speaking as if she hadn't said anything unusual.

"I need to go over that article the writing staff hopefully sent last night, and the printing deadline..."

Miranda's suddenly faltering voice got muffled when the assistant pulled the hoodie over her head, exposing her bare back to her boss and dropping the garment to the carpet while arching her neck sideways to rid herself of any remaining stiffness from the night.

"... is in less than twenty hours," the fashion maven finished the sentence with a whisper.

"Alright," Andy spoke nonchalantly over her shoulder. "Let me just shower real quick and get dressed, and then I'll set up the laptop."

_Interesting_, the brunette thought when she sauntered into the bathroom with an extra sway to her hips. _So Miranda doesn't mind my touch, calls my butt 'shapely' and she gets distracted by my naked back..._

The assistant closed the door and looked up into the mirror above the sink. Her hair was mussed, and her cheeks were flushed from sleep and the memory of yesterday's embarrassment. Her eyes, however, were clear and bright. She could finally look at herself with total honesty, her true emotions no longer hidden by denial. She _loved _Miranda. It wasn't a distracting crush, confused hero worship or mere physical attraction; she was in _love_ with the older woman.

As she stared at her reflection, Andy realised that she wasn't scared or appalled. She didn't flinch when that four-letter word played over and over in her mind. An odd sense of everything settling into place engulfed her and she found peace in finally understanding what had been going on inside of her for the past few months.

Her reflection broke into a smile when she welcomed that warm, fuzzy feeling inside her heart. Although she was convinced that Miranda would never love her back in _that way_, the editor at least didn't hate her. She apparently also did not find her unappealing - a thought which sent Andy's heart into a rather giddy tumble.

_Get a grip, Sachs,_ the rational part of her brain scolded. _Nothing will happen, so just get your shapely ass into gear and shower already!_

Her sense of reason did not manage to fully dissolve the warm cloud of elation in her chest, though, and the brunette stripped off the rest of her clothes and stepped into the shower happily humming to herself.

* * *

><p>"Mom?"<p>

"No, I'm sorry. It's Andy again. Your mom's voice isn't back yet, but she's here with me."

The assistant looked across the table were Miranda was licking the yolk from a raw quail egg.

"Oh..." came the disappointed reply from the phone and the editor looked up from her breakfast with a pained expression.

"Are you at our house?" That was most likely Cassidy, the more inquisitive of the twins.

"No," the brunette gazed at her boss. "We're at my apartment, actually."

Miranda cocked her little head in annoyed disbelief that Andy would blurt that out and the brunette quickly covered the speaker with her palm and shrugged her shoulders to whisper, "one shouldn't lie to children."

Of course Cassidy latched onto that bit of information right away.

"What is Mom doing at your place on a Sunday morning?"

Andy smirked, her gaze not leaving the mink. "Kicking my _lazy _butt into gear, of course."

Caroline giggled in the background and Miranda rolled her eyes._ "Andrea!"_

"We're working, actually, and we need to go into the office in a bit. Your mom wanted to hear your sweet voices before we get all caught-up by work stuff."

_"'_Work_ stuff?'"_

"Uh-oh, she's rolling her eyes at me again."

The twins giggled and Andy could have sworn a tiny smirk tugged at Miranda's lips as well.

"So... is everything alright with you guys?"

Cassidy sighed into the phone. "Yeah, I guess. We can't wait to get home, though."

Her sister continued, "Dad got really mad at us for teasing Felicity, so we didn't have pizza night yesterday. We had to stay in our room the whole evening."

The editor crawled closer to Andy and said, "tell them we'll have pizza together when they get home."

It was rather difficult to picture Miranda and her daughters eating something as pedestrian and carb-laden as pizza in that fancy town house kitchen of theirs, but the idea nonetheless infused the assistant with warmth. She smiled gently as she relayed the message to the girls.

"Oh really? That's great, Mom! Yay!" Caroline shrieked in the background.

"She says, _'only if you behave for the rest of the weekend', _though,_'_" Andy added per Miranda's instruction.

"No problem," the twins answered quickly at the same time, and the brunette's heart ached for the small family at the blatant eagerness of the girls to spend time with their mother; even if it was just a shared evening meal of pizza.

"Mom?"

_"Yes, Bobbsey?"_

"She said, 'yes, Bobbsey'," Andy repeated back to Cassidy.

"When we come home tomorrow after school, will you be there?"

She had known that Miranda's daughters were exceptionally bright ten-year-olds, but their talent for picking up on every little thing still surprised Andy. She gazed at her boss and a look of hopeless agony passed between them. _So much for not lying..._

"She's nodding... and I'll do my best to help get her out of the office on time."

The brunette truly meant it, and the conviction in her voice conjured a spark into the mink's saddened eyes. Andy reached out and gently stroked over Miranda's head, before bringing the phone call to a close.

"Alright, girls, we need to go now. She loves the two of you more than anything and can't wait to hold you in her arms again."

"Did she really tell you to say that?" An astounded Caroline asked in a hushed voice.

"No," the brunette trailed her fingers tenderly along the jawline of the editor, whose gaze burned deeply into her soul. "She didn't have to. I can see it in her eyes."

"We love you, too, Mom!"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Mom!"

"Bye, Cassidy. Bye Caroline."

"Bye, Andy."

The assistant disconnected the phone and smiled encouragingly at Miranda. "Come on." She stood. "Let's go and sort out that article."

As if it had become its second nature, the mink easily crawled up into the brunette's waiting arms and curled up against her chest.

"Andrea?" The editor whispered while Andy gathered the essentials into her purse and grabbed a coat.

"Yes?"

Miranda's voice was low and almost inaudible, but her "thank you" still found its way straight to Andy's heart.

* * *

><p><em>(continued in chapter two ... ^_^ off you go... clicker-de-click!)<em>


	2. Part Two

_Part two:_

* * *

><p>The screen in front of Andy kept blurring as she tried to concentrate on the words. It had been almost a year since she had written anything serious and the sudden task to '<em>fix what those imbecile Features writers were incapable of accomplishing',<em> as Miranda had so eloquently put it, was daunting and not a little anxiety-inducing. She had about two hours left to polish the few, barely acceptable paragraphs and come up with an additional thousand words to stress all the important points and turn the_ 'sorry excuse for an article' _into something worthy of appearing in Runway.

Of course, Miranda's constant pacing on the desk and those critical eyes trained on every word the brunette produced onto the screen did not help.

"Uhm... could you please stop crawling over the keyboard, Miranda? You're making me nervous."

The mink turned around and fixed her with a hardened gaze.

"How can I be expected to not pace around with so much incompetence around?" Blue eyes narrowed at Andy and the familiar boss-mode caused the brunette to gulp. "I was under the impression that you wanted to write for a magazine. Well... now is your chance."

"Yes," the assistant shut her eyes and rubbed at her aching temples. "I understand... and I'm _grateful_. It's just not easy to get into _'the zone_' with you breathing down my neck... or rather... my fingers." She looked down at the unhappy mink and wiggled her hands.

"I know you want to keep an eye on everything, with the deadline looming right ahead and all that, but I think I could work better if you weren't constantly checking up on me."

"'_Checking up_' on you?" Miranda was definitely not pleased and the hair on the back of her neck rose up like on a dog that was about to lunge for an attack. "I am still your superior, Andrea. I hope you don't forget that." Her tone was deadly and the brunette couldn't help but flinch.

The fire in the editor's eyes nearly drowned out the worries that were so clearly setting her on edge, and Andy felt bad, because she sensed that Miranda was acting like this because she was truly stressed. Who could blame her? This situation might have had its fun moments, but Andy realised that being confronted with the prospects of losing the twins gave the editor every right to become unpleasant.

"Look, I'm sorry. Maybe... you can sit down?" The brunette offered an open palm to the mink. "That way you're still able to read along, but you won't distract me so much."

Her boss didn't move and just glared back.

"Please, Miranda. I'm sorry that I snapped at you. I'm under a lot of pressure and I want to do a good job. The _best _job."

The mink's eyes narrowed slightly, but she remained quiet on the other side of the desk.

Andy wondered whether Miranda would be susceptible to the pout that had aided the brunette in many such situations in the past. Lowering her chin and blinking her large eyes down at the editor, she moved her mouth and pushed her bottom lip forward. The pout had always been a trump in her arsenal when she needed a favour or wanted to turn a discussion to her advantage. Using it on her boss, she knew, was slightly unprofessional, but sometimes extreme situations required extreme measures.

"I'm sorry." She extended her hand further and used her index finger to stroke softly over the mink's front paw. "Please come here, so that I can continue."

Miranda's face softened, and with an air of defiance, that said she was not submitting to emotional blackmail, but rather moving on her own volition, she crossed the desk and sauntered back to Andy.

_Holy crap, it worked!_

The brunette managed to keep the amusement from showing in her face and she allowed the mink to crawl onto her lap.

"Thank you," she whispered and straightened her spine. "Now, where was I?"

Soon the assistant's fingers were flying over the keys again and she got lost in an argument countering the idea that faux fur would just encourage, instead of lessen, the status of real fur. She carefully moulded her words into an explanation that, by this particular logic, vegans who wore artificial leather boots were stimulating the industry just as much.

Mankind had evolved millennia ago by donning the skin of the animals they hunted, and those origins of fur and leather could not simply be denied. However, since then humans had found other ways to manufacture clothing, and beside the Inuit or an occasional polar expedition, wearing fur as a means to protect oneself from the elements was no longer a necessity.

Fashion, nonetheless, was a way to express oneself. Just as much as wearing military jackets did not imply that one agreed with wars, a wrap made from synthetic fibres that represented animal skin wasn't meant to promote animal abuse.

Andy further stressed the points of research into organic alternatives, not only when it came to fake fur, but in regards for the textile industry as a whole, and then came to a conclusion that focused on the actual garments. Miranda, who had been resting her little chin on the edge of the desk above the brunette's lap, was quietly reading through the last few lines on the screen.

"Hmmm..." she murmured after a while.

The assistant tensed and waited for signs of disapproval, but Miranda just nodded her head and said, "Send it to the Features editor with a copy to Nigel."

"Oh... okay," Andy mumbled surprised and began to compose the email. "So, is it alright? I mean, not too bad?"

"It's passable. I'd switch around a paragraph or two, and you should work on your punctuation," the editor tilted back her head to look up at the brunette. "But it isn't _too _shabby."

Andy felt dizzy at the unexpected compliment and her fingers trembled when she clicked to attach the text file and sent it off through the Runway ethernet.

"Thanks," she whispered sheepishly and out of habit stroked the editor's fluffy back.

"So... now what?"

They had spent most of the day on the article, with only a few visits to the art department to look at the faux fur spread layout, and now it was almost eight.

"Actually," Miranda said when she jumped down from her warm spot on Andy's lap and stretched her lithe body on the carpet, "I'm rather hungry. Could you check the office fridge for something edible?"

The mink's frequent fixation on food was starting to become rather endearing and Andy rose from her chair with a smile on her face. Now that the article was sent for final editing and the fashion maven hadn't hated it, the brunette was able to relax and she almost skipped the few feet to the kitchenette. The prospects of nutritional conquests in the fridge, however, were rather bleak and she stared at the empty shelves with disappointment when her own stomach made itself known.

"Uhm, all I can offer is half a grapefruit and some crackers, I'm afraid." She closed the fridge and turned around just in time to see a short man pushing through the double glass doors.

"Oh... good evening Mr. Ravitz," she greeted Elias-Clark's chairman a bit confused. What was he doing here on a Sunday night?

"Where is she?" The man asked slightly agitated.

An inconspicuous look around the office assured Andy that the editor was safely hidden under the desk and out of sight.

"Uhm... Miranda is at home, sir..."

"No she isn't. My assistant attempted to reach her at the house all day, unsuccessfully, might I add. So I ended up going over there myself and the place was empty."

_Crap, _the brunette thought. If the chairman himself was actively trying to find Miranda, things were really bad.

"Uhm... maybe she was out?"

"Don't take me for a fool, young lady," his small eyes were squinting at her through the black-rimmed glasses. "I know of the last-minute changes to the issue, and I know Miranda. She wouldn't just trust her staff to get things done in a hurry without sitting right on top of them." He looked around the assistant area and then walked to the doors that lead the editor-in-chief's office. "Now, tell me. Where is she?"

"I... I'm afraid I don't know, sir. I haven't seen her since Thursday morning." Technically that wasn't a lie.

"You're telling me, that I'm being swamped by advertisers who have been inexplicably dropped from this issue, and I've just gotten news about a two-hundred-thousand dollar lingerie spread being cut in favour of a highly-sensitive and provocative subject matter that won't sell us half as many copies as the naked girls would have... and the woman responsible has simply vanished?"

An angry, red flush crawled up Irv's neck from the collar of his shirt and he leaned closer to the frightened brunette, who shrank back in order to not to agitate him further with the few inches she had on him.

"You," he pointed his stubby fingers at her chest. "You will tell her that I want the issue back to the original format that she presented to the board last week. I want the lingerie model returned to the cover and I want none of this anti-fur business."

Andy grimaced when his unpleasant breath reached her face, but she knew she couldn't budge on this. They couldn't risk Miranda remaining stuck in the body of a small animal and never be able to talk to her girls again. Memories of the pained expression on the editor's face during the phone call with the twins strengthened the assistant's resolve and she squared her shoulders.

"No."

The short man looked taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"No. I won't tell her. And she won't change back the issue." She clenched her jaw in an attempt to still remain polite. Irv was, after all, still everyone's boss.

He stepped even closer and the brunette moved back against the wall in an attempt to escape the loathsome, little man.

"If that woman doesn't do as I say, I will make sure," he grabbed Andy's arm just above the elbow and tightened his fingers to a painful squeeze. "That you will find yourself without a job _and _the chance to work in publishing ever again."

The young woman winced from pain and disgust, but refused to bend to his will.

Irv sneered and pressed his body against Andy's. "Have I made myself clear?"

Before Andy could respond or try anything to get the creepy man off of her, the chairman jerked back with a blood-curdling shriek that echoed loudly through the otherwise abandoned office. He staggered to the side and the assistant spotted the white, fluffy blur that had its jaw tightly locked around Irv's calf.

"What the hell! Get this thing off me!"

He violently shook his leg and Andy worried for Miranda's safety as her little body was flung from side to side. The mink managed to hold on for a bit, but then she lost her grip and Irv managed to shake her loose. With a yell of pain and frustration he swung back his foot and drove his polished shoes straight into the little creature, sending it into the air and flying into Miranda's office, where it landed on the carpet with a soft thud.

"Noooo!"

Andy pushed past the chairman and staggered over to quickly kneel on the floor beside the lifeless ball of fur.

"No, no, no... Mira... please... please be okay!"

Irv's nasty sniff barely registered when the brunette gently cradled the editor. Tears spilled across her cheeks and she frantically tried to feel for a heartbeat.

"You know what to do." Mr. Ravitz spat at her. "_Fix _this, or you're fired." He straightened his collar and nodded to the mink. "And I hope you realise that bringing your pet rat to the office is against Elias-Clark regulations. If it turns out that I will need a rabies shot, I will sue."

"You can try, sir," Andy shot back evenly through her tears, "but then you'll have to face charges for assault on a staff member _and _animal abuse."

He narrowed his eyes and sent her a final, seething look, before turning around and walking away, unable to fully hide his limp.

"Miranda... Miranda," the assistant whispered into the white fur as she held the frail, little body to herself.

"Please wake up... don't leave me..."

The faint pulse under her finger tips sparked some hope and she nuzzled carefully behind the little ears.

"Ugh..." the creature groaned and began to slowly move its limbs. "Ouch."

"Oh thank god!" The brunette sobbed in relief and pressed tiny kisses all over the mink's forehead and cheeks.

"As much as I may enjoy your euphoria about my being alive, I don't think it's worth the pain and humiliation of being kicked across my own office" the editor murmured. Andy pulled away and looked down onto the white fluff ball to figure out whether she had heard correctly. A tiny smirk playing on Miranda's lips confirmed her ears were in good working order, and the brunette could no longer contain an elated giggle.

"You're okay? Nothing broken?" She carefully set the editor back down on the carpet.

Miranda slowly flexed her muscles and, although she appeared to be sore, she managed to walk.

"I think I'm okay. It's quite remarkable how resilient this little body seems to be."

Andy lowered her head to press her forehead gently against Miranda's and whispered, "thank you for saving me from the clutches of that disgusting, little man..."

Happiness welled up in her heart when the editor nosed her wet cheeks and shortly thereafter a raspy, little tongue began lapping at her tears. The brunette chuckled under the tickling sensation and pulled the mink closer for a hug.

"Does Miranda know you're canoodling with her little, furry project on the floor of her office?" Nigel's voice forced them apart abruptly.

Sheepishly drying her cheeks with her palms, Andy stood and turned toward the fashion director.

"Uhm... yeah, she does, actually."

Miranda had the audacity to snort which tore fresh giggles from her assistant. Nigel looked between the young woman and the mink and raised his eyebrows.

"Well, I just came here to talk about your surprisingly well-constructed article. On the way over I bumped into Irv and he seemed thoroughly disgruntled about something." He squinted at Andy in a way that indicated he knew she was somehow involved. "Any idea what could have gotten his briefs in a knot?"

"Uh... well," the assistant looked at Miranda who nodded her head and whispered that they could trust Nigel. "Irv wasn't exactly... _happy _with all those sudden changes. Especially since we kicked all the fur coat ads this close to winter."

The fashion director nodded.

"He also wasn't amused about the change from the lingerie cover to the girl with that beautiful, blue faux fur wrap."

"That sounds like Irv," Nigel smirked dryly and rubbed the back of his neck. "You know, we've never before made such drastic changes _after _the boards issue approval. At least not without their direct order."

"Mr. Ravitz said he'd fire me if I don't succeed in changing Miranda's mind about it." Andy revealed with a defeated shoulder slump.

"What? He can't do that! You're _Miranda's _assistant. And for reasons I haven't yet fully grasped, she trusts you more than she has ever trusted anyone. Don't worry, Six." His palm was warm when he patted her shoulder. "That man can't touch you."

"Hmmm," she looked away and gingerly rubbed her arm that would no doubt bare bruises where the chairman had forcefully grabbed her just moments ago.

"You're not going to try and talk her into changing the issue, are you?" The fashion director asked carefully. "Because something tells me she'd actually listen to you."

"No way, Nigel!" The brunette looked up, shocked. "Miranda _needs _to do this. It's very important to her, and I'll do _anything _to make it happen." She answered maybe a little too passionately.

"Hmmm... _anything, _you say?" Andy recognised the gleam behind his spectacles from the previous day when he had talked her into rolling around naked in front of the photographer with Miranda pressing against her naked breasts.

"Uhm..."

Before she could talk her way out of it, Nigel pulled a mock-up from behind his back and held it up in front of her.

The first thing she noticed wasn't so much her own exposed skin, or the fact that her hair and make-up looked positively exquisite. No, the very first spot any observer's eyes were drawn to, was the affection on her face and the adoration with which she gazed down to the mink, which stared back at her with equally undivided attention.

"Holy shit, Nigel..."

Seeing her own face and naked shoulders on the cover of Runway, even if it was just a draft for now, felt incredibly surreal.

"It's gorgeous, isn't it?" The fashion director beamed.

"Uhm..." Andy had to admit it looked pretty damn good and it was mostly a head shot, hiding the rest of her naked body from view, so it didn't exactly make her feel uncomfortable. Still, the idea of this actually being published felt all wrong. She wasn't a cover girl. She was the smart, _fat _girl, who had shown up to her first day at work with a hideous poly-blend sweater and a 'grandma skirt'. She didn't belong on the front page of a fashion magazine.

"Of course, Miranda will need to give her okay, which is another reason why I'm here." Nigel pulled her from her musings.

"Huh?"

"Could you please phone her? I sent this a few hours ago, but she doesn't answer her emails or anyone's calls but yours. If I want to get this to the printers on time, I need her approval _a.s.a.p._"

Andy shook herself to regain a bit of her lost composure and she trotted to her desk for her phone. "Right."

She pushed the speed dial button, knowing that they had set Miranda's phone to direct voice mail, and after a few imagined rings, she spoke, "Yeah... uhm... hi Miranda. Uhm.. Nigel is here and he wants to have your approval for... uh... a cover change..." She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "He... uhm... wants to use a photo from the shot I did yesterday... I think he sent it to you already..."

The mink's strong voice coming from right behind her startled Andy and she almost dropped the phone.

"Tell him to do it."

"What?" The assistant almost shrieked and she spun around to gaze wide-eyed at the editor.

"Unless you have... objections."

"Uhm... me?" Out of reflex she sent a helpless look at Nigel, who had become something like a friend to her over the past months, but he just stared back between the mink and the assistant in wonder. Andy realised she may have revealed that she was actually talking to the creature on the floor instead of to the phone, but she quickly pushed that thought away, knowing that the fashion director was never actually going to believe that.

"Uh... Nigel she says to use it... and uhm... I give my consent."

The bald man's eyes widened.

"Are you sure? Don't let her pressure you into this. It's still your own decision to make."

The brunette nodded, slowly beginning to realise what kind of privilege both Miranda and Nigel were offering. Even if she were to get fired the next day, she would always be able to remember her time at Runway and the few days spent so intimately with mink-Miranda.

"Yes, Nigel. I'm sure."

She turned her attention back at the editor, who was studying the mock-up of herself and Andy.

"Andrea, tell Nigel to use a smaller font-size for the second quote on the bottom, and change the Runway lettering to more of a bronze than gold. It goes better with your hair colour."

_There's a thing I never in a million years would have imaged Miranda to say, _the brunette thought to herself.

"Nigel, she wants some changes to the font..."

The fashion director seemed thoughtful, and he interrupted her with a raised hand.

"You know, what, Six? Come with me to the art department. I'll have them make the changes right away. We'll send them to Miranda and you can give me her feedback."

After a nod from the editor, Andy bent down to allow the mink to crawl into her arms. "Uhm... Miranda? We'll make the changes and then I'll phone you back." She clutched the furry creature to herself, still a bit nervous about what she was getting herself into, and then hung up the phone.

"Alright, let's go."

* * *

><p>At eleven-thirty Andy was incredibly exhausted and at the same time completely wired from excitement. Nigel, her and the art department staff had done their best to adjust the layout to Miranda's specifications and had managed to send the issue to the printers with less than an hour to spare. Now the big printing machines somewhere across the city were busy putting Andy's glossy face on thousands of covers that would be available all across the nation the following day.<p>

The car slowed down as it approached the town house and the brunette wondered whether she should maybe warn her family and friends. At the very least she should inform her parents, before they spotted their more or less naked daughter on the very magazine whose editor-in-chief she had nothing but complained about since she had started her job. The vehicle stopped and she thanked Roy's night shift replacement, before gathering Miranda and stepping out onto the curb.

Full of confidence that the spell would break as soon as the magazines were distributed across the country, she had decided to get the editor back to her own home. If the house was indeed empty, as Irv had implied, that meant Stephen was most likely staying with his mistress and they wouldn't need to worry about him.

The vestibule was dark when Andy unlocked the front door and stepped onto the blue-grey carpet, and the armed night alarm confirmed that the house was unoccupied. After entering the numbers that Miranda was dictating into the touch pad to disable the annoying beeping, Andy switched on the lights and set the mink down on the wooden floor of the bottom landing.

"Well, it looks like it's just us..." the assistant said while looking up the banister of the stairs. The house was completely quiet with the exception of Miranda's little footsteps on the polished mahogany and the overwhelming yawn that struck the tired young woman.

"Andrea. Come on, let's go to bed before you faint in my hallway," the editor said before she disappeared into the downstairs sitting room. Andy was a bit surprised that they didn't take the stairs, but when she followed Miranda through the kitchen and to the back of the house she noticed a second staircase.

_Neat_, she thought and trotted up each step behind the mink.

They climbed up two floors and walked down a long hallway before stopping in front of an intricately panelled door. Encouraged by Miranda's nod, Andy turned the knob and stepped inside what was very clearly the older woman's bedroom. Light blue walls and a plethora of magnolia fabrics instantly gave the brunette a familiar feel and she walked across the lush blue carpet to study the three black and white photographs above the king-sized bed. It took a while before she recognised close-ups of female curves; the dip of a hip, the swell of a breast and the smooth lines of an arched neck. It was artfully done and gave the room an extra air of femininity that was soothing and inviting.

"I see you like my choice of decoration," Miranda said, sounding slightly amused as she climbed onto the bed.

Andy nodded and then looked down at the blue and cream-coloured, satin sheets. She didn't want to imagine the editor and her husband at this beautiful place. The idea of Stephen in this room felt wrong and it threatened to squeeze the brunette's heart in an unpleasant grip.

"Stephen and I have separate bedrooms. He has never shared this bed," Miranda spoke softly, startling her assistant and making Andy wonder whether her unguarded facial expression had given her away.

"Oh... that's... uhm... good," she waved her hand helplessly in front of herself and slowly sat down onto the mattress.

"Get undressed and move under the covers, Andrea." The mink ordered impatiently.

Apparently they weren't even going to discuss Andy staying the night and the brunette was much too tired to argue the point anyway. Not that she would have wanted to leave Miranda alone or could have brought herself to say no to spending another night with the editor curled up in her arms. Quickly her pumps were discarded and she had draped her skirt, blouse and sweater across a nearby chair. Once she had stripped off her thigh-highs she felt self-conscious in just her lace lingerie, and she swiftly slid under the sheets.

"Please take off your brassiere, Andrea, or you'll tear the delicate satin." The whispered command didn't sound as much like an order as it resembled a plea.

With a definite blush to her cheeks the brunette reached under the covers to unhook her bra. She knew she shouldn't be shy around Miranda after the editor had seen her almost completely naked just a day ago. However the lingering revelation this morning, that the fashion maven wasn't exactly unmoved by exposed portions of her assistant's body, created a steady, warm buzz in Andy's abdomen.

She threw the garment on top of the pile of clothes and reached for the light switch. Under the cover of the sudden darkness a fluffy warmth slid across the brunette's shoulders and she felt the mink curl up against the crook of her neck.

"Miranda?"

"Uh-hmmm?"

"No matter what happens tomorrow," she paused to allow another yawn. "I want you to know that I'm on your side." She reached up to stroke through the soft fur. "If Irv fires me, I won't hold it against you, and I will still try to help you, whenever you need me."

"Why?" Miranda asked after a moment of thought.

The younger woman wasn't exactly sure what she was being asked. "Why what?"

A long sigh escaped the little creature.

"Why, after everything you have already done for me, and all those consequences looming on the horizon, would you still stick with me? I haven't always been exactly... _kind _to you.. or have given you reasons _not _to hate me..."

Andy's fingers stilled their movement and she took a deep, slow breath.

"Because I care about you, Miranda."

There. It was out.

"I've cared about you for a while now... and during the past few days I've realised that you're very important to me." She had to fight the sobs that threatened to bubble from her throat. "I... I miss you, Miranda. Although, I technically I see and talk to you every day... " The brunette sniffled. "But... I miss looking at you. I miss your hair... and your smile..." She gave a sad little laugh. "I even miss your glares and when you purse your lips."

That drew a chuckle from Miranda, but the choked-up tone revealed to the brunette that the editor was actually crying.

"Wow," Andy said breathlessly. "I didn't know mink could cry..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea," Miranda wept softly against the brunette's throat and continued in a barely audible whisper, "I'm not crying..."

Overcome by love and incredible sadness at her longing for the older woman's human form, Andy snuggled closer against the white fur and pulled the covers tightly around them.

"It's okay, Miranda. I promise I won't tell..."

And cradling the distraught editor to herself, she let go of her own tears and slowly succumbed to sleep.

* * *

><p>Her dream scape that night looked a lot like Miranda's office. If it weren't for the distinct knowledge that she was, in fact, asleep, Andy could have sworn she was actually standing on the familiar cream carpet back at Runway. The New York skyline, however, had completely vanished, and instead the long wall of windows looked out onto the rich, green spring fields that the brunette recognised from the previous night's dream.<p>

Warm arms suddenly slid around her middle from behind and a pointy chin came to rest on her shoulder. Andy didn't need to turn around to know that it was Miranda.

"Darling..." the editor murmured against her assistant's neck and then nuzzled the area just below the earlobe. The brunette leaned back with a sigh, thankful she was dreaming of Miranda yet again.

The older woman linked her fingers across Andy's belly, and tightening her arms, she began rocking the assistant gently from side to side.

"Hmmm... this is nice," the brunette sighed happily and closed her eyes.

"Not as nice as what I'll do to you once I get my body back in the real world," Miranda whispered sensually and Andy clenched her thighs together in response to the sudden flood of arousal it evoked.

"I _wish_..." the brunette almost groaned in reply when the older woman's lips trailed down the side of her neck.

"What do you mean? You wish I got my body back," a tongued darted out to taste flushed skin. "Or you wish I'll do nice things to you outside of this dream?"

"Both," Andy whimpered as hot palms slid up her front and Miranda gently cupped her breasts.

"Hmmm... well... the first I can only hope for, but the latter," she rocked her hips against her assistant's backside, "I can guarantee."

"Oh god," Andy moaned and she reached behind them to grab the older woman's butt, massaging it gently and pulling the two of them even tighter together.

At that moment someone behind them suddenly cleared their throat and the editor spun them around to face the intruder.

The stranger in the woollen, patched-up coat, with the big hat and the thick, raven braid, stood in the doorway to the outer office.

"You...!" Miranda spat almost immediately at the man while sliding her hands back down to hold Andy firmly around the waist.

"After all the misery you've caused you have the audacity to even interrupt my dreams?"

Andy couldn't agree more when she reluctantly pulled her hand away from the editor's soft ass.

_Hey... wait a minute...!_

"Uhm... Miranda, what do you mean... _your_ dreams? This is _my_ dream!" The brunette leaned her upper body to the side to look back at the woman behind her.

"Clearly not, Andrea, since I am fully aware of the fact that you and I are asleep in my bed at the town house at this very moment."

Andy felt dizziness sweep over her.

"What? But so am I! This is _my_ dream. I'm sure of it. I mean, just look outside... that's the exact grass with all the flowers I dreamt about last night."

Miranda narrowed her eyes at the brunette. "That was quite positively _my dream_, as well, Andrea. I distinctively remember..." she halted and blushed at the memory.

"... making out," Andy finished the older woman's sentence in disbelief. "Oh my god. Miranda, what's going on here?"

"Ehem... if I may," the stranger interrupted them. "These dreams belong to both of you. You have shared them every night since the transformation."

"What?" The assistant's cheeks buzzed with a violent blush as she recalled some of the details she had thought were nothing but her own private thoughts.

"Impossible!" Miranda hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh... well, let me explain," the man said and Andy couldn't help but calm down at his friendly smile.

"I am a _shaman _and my services were called upon by the young activists who have been trying to get your attention for months now. You did not deign to listen to them, so I cast a spell that would force you to finally open your eyes and use your great influence to make a difference for the better."

The brunette felt the editor stiffen.

"Well, I _am_ making a difference as we speak," Miranda said icily. "Right now, we are printing an issue of my magazine that will not only cause an uproar in the world of fashion, but will most likely also cost me my job and rip away everything that I have professionally built over the past two decades." The older woman's body almost trembled with anger. "So... I now _demand _for you to uphold your end of the bargain and..._ undo... the... spell!_" Each word was stressed and laced with anger that left no room for negotiations.

The shaman chuckled and blinked his warm, dark eyes. "You have the blood of a true warrior inside of you, _Silver Doke-Sesch_. Do not worry, the spell is broken and you have already been returned back to your human form."

"Well..." Miranda said, clearly having the wind taken out of her sails by this easy conclusion. "_Good_."

Andy's heart thumped rapidly in her chest when she imagined herself in Miranda's bed with the editor's _human_ body right next to her, and she wasn't sure she would be able to handle waking up without hyperventilating. The realisation that the editor from her dreams had actually been _real _Miranda, thinking she herself was merely drifting in her own fantasy world, made Andy's head spin. The older woman had been the one who had initiated all the physical contact in their joint subconsciousness the past three nights.

It all sounded too surreal and confusing, and part of the brunette simply wasn't ready yet to fully grasp what it meant for her and her boss. Carefully slipping out of Miranda's embrace she moved closer to the stranger.

"Uhm... excuse me... Mr. Shaman... Uhm... how come I was the only one who could understand Miranda?" She wrung her hands and turned around to look at the editor. The back-light from the spring day outside conjured a golden glow around Miranda's snowy locks and although her face was darkened by the high contrast, Andy could tell that the older woman wasn't too pleased about the loss of contact.

"And how is it possible," the assistant stepped back and reached for Miranda's hand, "that we share each other's dreams?"

The shaman chuckled warmly and touched the rim of his hat in what almost seemed like a sign of respect. "Well... it wasn't planned, but it turns out that it made everything a lot easier." He raised his chin toward Andy. "When I cast the spell, you selflessly attempted to place yourself between your boss and me, in order to protect her."

Miranda interlaced her fingers with the brunette's and pulled her closer again.

"That was a stupid thing to do, Andrea..." she mumbled into the brunette's hair. "You could have gotten hurt."

"Uhm... it wasn"t as if I had time to think. Everything happened so fast..." the assistant trailed off, remembering the explosion of adrenaline in her system when she had deemed Miranda in mortal danger. "I merely acted on instinct."

The queen of fashion brought their joined hands back around Andy's waist and held her tightly, making it clear that she did not wish for the brunette to be anywhere else.

"As it turned out," the shaman continued his explanation, unfazed by the intimacy between the two women. "A portion of the spell reflected off of you before it hit its target, creating a link between you both."

Miranda slid her chin back onto the younger woman's shoulder and Andy could feel the tension in her jaw when she spoke, "If this... _link _exists only between Andrea and I, then why, pray tell, are _you _here?"

"I am a shaman, _Doke-Sesch. _I have my ways." He smiled mysteriously. "But I will leave you now. My work here is finished."

"Wait... uhm," Andy attempted to ignore the length of Miranda's body possessively pressing against her from behind. "When we get back to the real world, will we still have this link? Will we still be able to share dreams?"

"I'm afraid not. When the spell ended, so did your connection. As soon as you wake up, everything will be back to the way it was."

Dread slowly crawled up into the brunette's chest, and she tried not to lose hope that whatever emotional connection had developed between Miranda and her would still remain, even without the spell.

"Now I must go..." He held up a hand and offered a final warm smile that did nothing to soothe Andy's anxiety. He then turned around, patched-up woollen coat swirling around his ankles, and disappeared into the white fog that engulfed the outer office.

Miranda's rigid hold on the brunette slackened a little and the editor exhaled sharply. "I thought he'd never leave..." Her pliant lips found the side of Andy's neck and she began gently suckling a path down to the younger woman's collar bone.

"M-Miranda... what are you doing?" Andy knew she wanted the older woman to continue, however, the fear that everything would be different as soon as they woke up, brought up her automatic defense mechanism. "Please... stop."

"Darling," was breathed against her shoulder, "why on earth would I _stop_?"

It was difficult for Andy to concentrate on _why_, exactly, she couldn't just let herself go. "Uhm... shouldn't we... you know, talk?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea." The older woman slowly slid her hands back up to the swells of the brunette's breasts. "Why would we do that? This is _my dream_, and I plan to do what I always do," the editor's palms brushed over her nipples, "... have my way with you."

"Oh god..." Andy could no longer restrain her moan. "Miranda, please... I can't do this..." her hips pushed back into the older woman's heat on their own accord, "... knowing that once we wake up... you will most likely kick me out of bed, fire me and banish me from publishing forever..." This time her moan sounded more like a sob. The uncertainty of what she would face back in the real world truly frightened her.

"_Andrea_..." Miranda sensually curled her tongue around each syllable, her voice a lover's caress. "... please don't spoil my fantasy." Her tone became sorrowful. "My dreams of you are all I have..."

The brunette wiggled her body so she could turn around in the tight embrace and look into the older woman's darkened eyes.

"Miranda, your _dreams of me_? Did you not hear a word the shaman just said?" She brought up her hands to cup the editor's smooth cheeks. "It's _me_. The Andrea lying in your bed with you, _right at this moment._"

Alert washed over Miranda's features, her eyes darting between Andy's in search of truth.

"So I'm supposed to believe that... this... really isn't just my own imagination?" The editor's jaw went slack in subdued shock, leaving her lips parted in an unguarded way that had the younger woman's fingers itching to wander over that beautiful mouth.

"Yes," Andy whispered as her thumbs slid tenderly over Miranda's chin, and she looked up into blue-greens that flooded with fear, hope and sudden clarity . "And when we wake up... we will both remember this..."

As if pulled by invisible strings they slowly drifted the remaining few inches toward each other, and when the assistant's lips were touched to the delicate mouth of the editor, warmth spread across Andy's skin, expanding from where she was connected to Miranda to all over her body. She felt as if she were falling backward. Gravity pulled at her and the instinct to keep Miranda close forced up her arms and she locked them firmly around the older woman's back, bringing her with her.

* * *

><p>The first sensation she became aware of was the unfamiliar weight on her chest and stomach that pinned her firmly to the mattress. Before she could panic, though, Andy's brain tuned in to the gentle pressure against her mouth, and the tender brush of her nose against another. She was surrounded by warmth, and although she couldn't exactly move, she felt oddly safe.<p>

When the fog around her conscious mind began to clear she realised that she was kissing someone who was stretched out on top of the entire length of her body. Someone _naked_...

_Miranda. _

Her eyes flew open and her heart jolted into a violent tumble that kick-started her entire system awake. Wide iceberg-blue pools stared back down at her, glassy with wonder and sleep-laden confusion, and the lips against her own were carefully lifted away. The movement caused the signature white lock to slide down and caress the brunette's cheek and the incredibly wonderful, silken feel of it made Andy question whether she was still dreaming.

Their startled gazes remained locked while the younger woman took stock of the situation. Miranda's chest, that wonderful creamy expanse Andy had so admired at the benefit, was pressed flush against her own. She could feel the softness of their breasts pushing together with each rise and fall of their joint and increasingly more laboured breathing. Thighs of satin skin lay on top of her own stretched-out legs, and a distinct tickle of hair through the lace of her La Perla briefs drew an unfortunate amount of attention to the fact that Miranda was indeed fully naked.

A hot flush climbed up the brunette's back, like warm palms sliding up her spine and firmly grabbing at the crook of her neck to spread out across her shoulders and chest.

The editor's lips were slightly parted, seemingly at a loss for word and action, just like in their dream a moment ago.

They _had _shared it, hadn't they?

In the pale, grey illumination of morning Andy watched as a particularly lovely shade of pink appeared on Miranda's cheeks, her neck, and on what little the brunette could see of her chest without allowing her gaze to wander away from the shiny blue-greens above her. Neither of them moved and neither spoke, however the violent thumping behind the editor's breasts, pulsing against the younger woman with each rapid beat, travelled the short distance to her own heart and solidified their intense connection.

Miranda was really there. No longer a small furry animal, but her beautiful human self, warm and unclothed... and in Andy's arms. The face, which the brunette had missed so painfully much, began to glow, each little muscle relaxing as they continued to look at each other. They remained still out of fear of destroying the moment, worried that as soon as either of them moved they would burst this bubble of peace that engulfed them.

Andy realised that her hands were flat on Miranda's back, still holding her close from when they had fallen out of the dream. Heat and her steady pulse seeped from her palms straight into the woman in her arms, binding their heartbeats together.

It was too much, too overwhelming, and the intensity sought release. The godlike vision before Andy blurred when thick tears spilled over her cheeks and her fingertips curled into the warm skin of Miranda's back in an attempt to hold on, to find a grip.

Then there was movement and tender fingers found Andy's cheeks, wiping at the moisture and stroking the flushed skin. Miranda's lips brushed ever so lightly against the brunette's mouth and the sweet caress of her whisper threatened to combust Andy's heart.

"Andrea..."

And then Miranda kissed her. A meeting of lips that was meant to soothe and reassure. Andy tightened her grip and slid her arms further so that the crook of her elbows firmly locked around the older woman's sides, brushing against the swells of her breasts in the process. They hummed against each other, startled by the electricity they created through simple touch. A tongue, firm and slick, tentatively snaked over the brunette's bottom lip and, as if to encourage Andy to grant entrance, Miranda rubbed the soles of her feet sensually against the younger woman's ankles.

Lost in sensation the brunette's lips parted, welcoming the sleek muscle with her own tongue, and as the wet, rough surfaces slid together, the friction sending jolts of desire straight to Andy's core, her legs twitched awake. They shifted apart only slightly, but the weight and pressure of Miranda's thigh nudged them further until the editor's smooth upper leg fell in between. The sudden force of desire that coursed through the assistant had her arch back her neck in a groan, breaking their kiss.

"Oh... god."

The older woman buried her face against Andy's throat, her hips rigid against the brunette's muscled thigh, and there was nothing in the world that could have prepared the young assistant for the exquisite sensation of Miranda's wet centre against her skin. It was hot, slick and wonderful, and as if her body had been trained for this very situation, her palms automatically caressed their way town to the hollow of the editor's lower back to guide her closer.

When Miranda carefully rocked her groin forward, once, then twice, Andy thought she might die from the soft pressure the older woman's leg caused against her panties.

"Miranda..."

The elegant tip of that patrician nose was pressed into the crook of her neck and the older woman's almost steamy breath left a fine sheer of moisture on Andy's collar bone when they moaned again in unison.

The sudden noise of an opening door and footsteps on the hardwood floor of the corridor froze them cold. Sloppy, sliding steps shuffled past their room and rhythmic creaks from the stairwell signalled that the danger had passed for now. Miranda's body went slack, but her arms sought out Andy's shoulders to hold on to her tightly.

"Stephen. He must have come home at some point..." she murmured against the racing pulse in the younger woman's throat.

"Oh... oh god... I'm sorry..." Panic had Andy wiggling her body to get away, only to realise she wasn't going anywhere under the editor's delicious weight.

Miranda's face, that had just a second ago been flooded with terror, softened and her lips slowly drew into a smirk as she looked down at the panicked brunette.

"Andrea... _Darling_..." Her thumb brushed over the assistant's mouth, smoothing away the small, worried crinkles. "It's alright. He went downstairs. We never interact in the mornings." She squinted at the bed side table. "It's almost eight so he'll be on his way to the office soon."

Andy tried to clear her mind from the overload of emotion and sensation. She had a naked Miranda in her arms, a naked and evidently _aroused _Miranda, and they had just made out.

_Jesus!_

The older woman shifted and her wetness slid against the brunette, bathing the assistant's skin in a warm and slippery mess. Andy grew increasingly moist in sympathy and closed her eyes to fight the steady throb between her legs.

"Miranda... "

"Shh, Darling," the editor whispered as she tenderly nosed Andy's still damp cheekbones. "It's going to be okay. Everything will be alright."

"But," the brunette peered back up from beneath barely raised lashes, "all of that stuff... did it really happen? Where you really there in my dreams?"

A smile that warmed Andy to her core played across Miranda's lips and she brushed a few stray strands of hair back behind the younger woman's ears. "That... _ssstuf?,_" She repeated with purred amusement. "As to our shared dreams... I distinctively remember dozens of furry, mischievous children and how we were in the process of creating... _more_." Her thigh pushed teasingly against Andy's lace covered centre. "I also remember our kiss in the field among the wildflowers..."

She nibbled at the brunette's bottom lip and caressed Andy's nose with her own.

"Hmmm, yes..." the younger woman hummed against Miranda's mouth. "You did mention something about always having your way with me in your dreams..."

"Oh... that." A sheepish look replaced the radiant desire on Miranda's cheeks and she looked down to where her fingers were distractedly caressing up and down Andy's throat. "I...I meant my regular dreams... from before..." blue-green eyes skidded from side to side, unwilling to make contact with the brunette. "... _before _this all happened..."

"I see," was all the assistant managed to say when she was overcome with tenderness and love at the vulnerable expression on Miranda's face. She brought up her hands, sliding her fingers into the short strands of snow at the nape of the editor's neck and slowly combing through the silky hair. "So... how long have you had those kinds of dreams about me?"

"Months..." Miranda confessed breathlessly. "Since Harry Potter..."

With a gentle tug, the brunette brought the editor's soft cheek against her own and hugged her tightly.

"Why did you never say anything?"

An elegant snort tickled against her nose.

"Are you out of your mind? Not only did it never occur to me that you would possibly want anything to do with a frigid, old woman like me, how, pray tell, would I have broached the subject? _'Go fetch my Starbucks, and by the way, I ravished you in my dreams last night, would you like to have a real go at it on my desk after lunch?'..._Don't be ridiculous, Andrea."

Andy giggled briefly at the playful and out-of-place La Priestly tone, but then grew serious and placed a tender kiss on the corner of Miranda's mouth. "You're not old. And certainly," she shifted her hips, "not _frigid_."

"Yes... well..." Miranda was incredibly adorable when she was shy and flustered, and Andy was reminded of the cuteness of her mink form.

"I've also... felt drawn to you... for a while now. I didn't really understand it for what it was," the brunette gently stroked the older woman's hair. "But as soon as you were gone... I mean, when your _body _was... I realised that I longed for you... not just emotionally, but also physically."

Miranda's hands languidly slid down Andy's arms, leaving a soothing trail of warmth in their wake.

"I think... I had gotten so used to being around you all the time that it really hit me how much I missed your presence... your face," her fingertips grazed the editor's cheekbones, "and your scent." She inhaled deeply. "Especially since over the past few weeks... you've kept me by your side and took me to meetings and showings, and sent Emily out on errants instead."

"Well, yes." The older woman snuggled into her assistant's neck, much like she had as a mink. "I wanted you close."

They heard the front door slam, and for a while they just lay entwined in their intimate embrace, letting the resounding silence of the house rock them into a peaceful state of simply basking in each other's presence.

"Darling?" Miranda interrupted after a few blissful minutes.

"Hmmm?"

"As much as I'm enjoying this," she planted a tender kiss on the base of Andy's throat to stress the point, "we need to get to the office. I'd hate to miss out on the chaos that will most likely break out as soon as people see the new issue."

The brunette grimaced at the memory _who _exactly was on the cover, and in which particular state.

With an unhappy groan Miranda slowly extracted her legs from between the younger woman's thighs and rolled to the side under the covers. When she elegantly rose from the bed she brought the sheets with her, quickly hiding her body from view and leaving Andy behind, exposed and cold.

"Hey! No fair," the brunette whined and the fashion maven turned around to pin the younger woman into the mattress with her typical, sweeping gaze. Now, however, Andy recognised the passion smouldering behind those glowing eyes and realisation struck, that Miranda had been looking at her like that for months. Instead of scrambling up to cover herself, Andy leaned up on her elbows and arched her back, teasingly jutting her naked breasts into the air.

The editor's tongue darted out to moisten her lips and that beautiful pink hue returned to her cheeks as her eyes became glassy.

"Uhm... I... I'm going to take a shower," Miranda swallowed hard and bit her bottom lip in fascination when the brunette languidly began stretching her limbs. "There is an en-suite in the guest room to the left... feel free to use it."

"Thank you. I will," Andy replied while slowly running her fingertips over the sticky patch left by Miranda on her upper leg.

When the older woman spun around and quickly rushed into the master suite, the assistant could no longer fight the giggle that had hung back in waiting ever since Miranda had gotten up.

Miranda's lingering scent on her body was overwhelming and after a short while Andy's amusement turned into a frustrated groan. She rolled over and pushed herself out of bed with determination to have the editor in her arms again very soon.

* * *

><p>Andy showered in the indicated guest en-suite, and when she was done and stepped back into the spare room, wrapped in nothing but a fluffy towel, she found that a magnolia coloured blouse and an ebony skirt had been lain out on the guest bed. She lifted the garments only to discover a set of black lace lingerie and silk thigh-highs.<p>

With a giddy smirk on her lips she quickly got dressed and hurried back out to Miranda's door. Suddenly feeling shy she knocked and waited, subconsciously pulling at the skirt and combing her fingers through her hair.

"Andrea, come."

When she quietly entered the room where just a few minutes ago she had been firmly wrapped around Miranda's wonderful body, the fashion maven was nowhere to be seen.

"Miranda?"

"In here," came the voice from the walk-in closet.

Andy stepped into what could have easily functioned as another master bedroom, but was lined with an array of huge, floor-to-ceiling shelves and clothing racks.

"Wow..." she exhaled in wonder.

"What did you expect, Andrea?" Miranda mocked from the far-end corner. "In the months you have worked for me, have you ever seen me wear the same outfit twice?"

"No, of course not," the brunette answered, eyes trailing over countless different fabrics and cuts as she approached the older woman. "Knowing, and finally seeing for yourself are two different things, though." She looked up at Miranda and smiled.

The queen of fashion was fully made up and dressed, except for her bare shoulders and exposed stomach. She wore a strawberry red pencil skirt and a delicate white lace bra that revealed more than it hid. Andy's mouth watered and she wanted to reach out and slide her palms over the editor's smooth stomach, but Miranda turned and when her eyes caught on the assistant, she licked her lips and studied the younger woman's figure with a fire burning behind cool blues.

"My clothes look delicious on you, Andrea," she whispered hoarsely and Andy's thighs clenched at the tone.

"Uhm... thank you..." she whispered shyly.

_So much for the shower..._

"Come here," Miranda said, holding out a hand that the younger woman gladly took.

Ever so slowly the editor pulled Andy closer until their chests and hips were pressed together. A delicate flush to the older woman's chest indicated that she was just as affected by their proximity as the brunette. With incredible tenderness Miranda slid a hand behind Andy's neck and brought their foreheads together.

"Andrea..." she laced their fingers together. "I want _this_... between us... I want a real shot at it."

The brunette felt Miranda's heart flutter wildly against her chest, and overcome with happiness she could only nod and whisper, "me, too."

"We need to... figure out a lot of things, though." The older woman exhaled sharply, disappointment and anxiety evident in her sigh, "And right now, we need to get to Runway... I need to schedule an appointment with my lawyers as soon as possible, and I want Stephen out of my house and out of my life... today, rather than tomorrow."

"No problem, I will phone the law firm from the car on our way to work," Andy whispered helpfully.

"Andrea... I want to very much continue where we left off earlier..." sadness coloured Miranda's voice and she tightened her hold on the younger woman's hands. "But we need to be careful until the divorce is finalised."

Andy pulled back and was about to whip out her strongest, pleading pout when the editor leaned forward and placed the sweetest kiss on the tip of her nose.

"It will be two weeks at the most, Andrea. My lawyers have been in possession of the filled-out divorce papers for almost a year now. All they have to do is add the date... I've only been waiting for proof... to make it as quick and pain-free for the girls as possible. I've been aware of my husband's affair for quite some time, I just didn't have an idea whom he might be seeing. Unfounded accusations would have dragged out the divorce proceedings, and until now... I haven't really had a pressing reason to dive into yet another scandalised separation."

Her eyes glowed with affection as her thumbs drew soothing circles on Andy's wrists.

"I was content with having you... in my dreams, knowing that you could never possibly want me... like this."

When the younger woman wanted to open her mouth, Miranda stalled her comment with a gentle finger, before continuing.

"Last week, when I slipped into Stephen's office, I saw his business partner's wife. The mandatory year of separation isn't needed in cases of adultery, and with the threat of William finding out about Gloria and my husband, I'm willing to bet that Stephen will sign fast and without complaint." Her lips kept hovering close to Andy's. "Then I'm all yours... if you will have me."

Instead of answering immediately, the brunette covered the remaining distance between them and touched her lips to Miranda's, mindful of the freshly applied lipstick, and gently brushing over the older woman's mouth to portray her willingness to wait.

"Yes," she breathed and enveloped Miranda in a tight hug, revelling in the sweet mixture of soap, moisturiser and the natural scent of the editor's skin. They remained like this for a while, slung around each other and simply basking in their joint embrace until Miranda slowly pulled away.

"We need to get to the office. Please phone Roy to meet us outside in ten minutes," she instructed. The sudden business-like tone didn't faze Andy as much as the uncharacteristic use of the word 'please'.

"Yes, Miranda," she chimed in her best assistant voice and spun around in search of her shoes and her phone with a wide grin on her lips.

* * *

><p>Andy slid into the leather seat next to the fashion maven, barely able to suppress a grin. Miranda, of course was her normal, stoic self, however the fact that the brunette was beaming like a lit Christmas tree and hadn't been told off or been on the receiving end of a few scathing remarks, was surely tipping Roy off that something was up. As hard as it was, the younger woman attempted to pull her lips back into a neutral, submissive position, but Miranda's perfume and her body heat, tempting Andy from a much shorter than usual distance between them, was really proving too much.<p>

To the common observer, nothing would have seemed out of the ordinary, Andy knew that. Roy, however, had been Miranda's main driver for eight and a half years, and his badly hidden glances at the two women in the rear-view mirror, gave away that he felt something wasn't quite right.

The editor, much like every morning, was gazing out at the passing world, the eyes behind her Marc Jacobs shades constantly observing, not missing a moment to look for inspiration on the Manhattan streets. Andy stole a few glances at the breathtaking sight next to her, following the defined lines of Miranda's distinct profile and recalling the incredible softness of the older woman's skin.

The assistant didn't care if Roy caught her staring and, she had to admit, it wouldn't be the first time she was observing her boss quietly in the back of the car, anyway. Still, something in the air between them must have visibly shifted, because the driver didn't give Andy a single chance to secretly sneak her fingers across the small distance and hold hands with Miranda.

"Roy, is there some reason why your attention is not fully on the road?" The fashion maven suddenly spoke without turning away from the window.

"Uhm... no, M'am," he mumbled quickly, and from then on his eyes remained glued forward.

Attempting to fight the giggle that lay waiting at the back of her throat, Andy focused her own gaze on the passing scenery. In a way she felt bad for Roy and she knew he was loyal and wouldn't compromise their situation. That didn't change the fact that Miranda's blatant display of authority roused wonderful sensations below the brunette's bellybutton.

Suddenly a smooth hand slid across her knuckles and the editor loosely interlaced their fingers, caressing Andy's palm with her thumb. When the brunette chanced a look, Miranda still hadn't turned away from the window, but the way she practically made love to the younger woman's hand betrayed her feigned disinterest. Unwilling to break the moment with idle babbling or a wrong move, the assistant simply held her hand in place and returned her gaze to her own window.

Much too soon their journey came to an end as the Mercedes smoothly slid to a stop in front of the Elias-Clark building, and the older woman gently extracted her fingers, before opening the door.

This time it wasn't activists that were crowding the entrance, but the press. Not so unusual, considering that a new and quite controversial issue of Runway had just appeared, however, as Andy stepped out of the car and hurried after Miranda toward the revolving glass doors, she realised that instead of focusing on the editor-in-chief, the cameras were flashing in her own face.

_Holy crap!_

"Andrea," Miranda said in that soft voice that would only reach her assistant's ears. "Stay close."

She didn't have to tell Andy twice. With a nervous smile, the younger woman attempted to shield her face from the photographers and slipped into the lobby with a sigh of relief. They made their way across the marble floors and for a moment Andy worried that her security pass might have been disabled over night, due to Irv making his threat reality.

The small gate opened, though, and she rushed through it in order to keep up with Miranda, who was already shooing a group of _clackers _from a waiting elevator with as much as a tilt of her chin. The women's faces where a picture of perfect shock when the junior assistant was beckoned to join her boss in the cabin.

The doors slid shut, but before Andy could spin around and grab the older woman by the collar of her coat, press her firmly into the wall and ravish her sweet mouth, Miranda held up a finger and whispered, "cameras."

"Damn the Technological Age..." the brunette hissed in frustration, but she was rewarded with a sexy chuckle from the editor.

"Indeed."

So they remained still, and at a more or less professional distance from each other, as the elevator closed in on their target floor. The doors opened and there stood Emily, no doubt notified of their arrival by Roy, and, judging by the magenta shade of her face, she had also seen the revised cover of the magazine. Before the redhead could mutter anything that would endanger her further employment, Miranda brushed past her and began rattling of a stream of instructions as if this were simply an ordinary day.

Andy just followed dumbly, half aware of the intense scrutiny and whispers that accompanied the trio on their walk to their office. In the assistant's area Miranda paused to slip off her coat, but before she could throw it on Emily's desk, the brunette was already reaching for it, sending the older woman a charming smile that was briefly mirrored in the small sparkle of blue-greens behind Marc Jacobs'.

"Oh and Emily, get my Starbucks," the editor ended her long string of commands, before sauntering into her office with an extra sway of her hips. "That's all."

The senior assistant finished scribbling down her tasks for the day and then hurried around her desk for her purse. When Andy turned around from hanging hers and Miranda's coats, the redhead stared her down with a fierce gaze that was filled with loathing, jealousy, but also a hint of respect. She didn't get around to comment, though, because their boss was calling for the brunette.

"Andrea."

Miranda stood with her back to the outer office, looking down on something on her desk, and when Andy approached, the older woman instructed, "Close the doors."

She did as she was told and as soon as they were alone, and safely away from prying ears and curious eyes, the editor turned around with that warm glow on her face, that Andy had been privy to just that morning.

"Darling you're so beautiful," she whispered softly and looked down on the magazine in her grasp. The younger woman's steps were sluggish, weighted down by apprehension, but sensing the hesitation, Miranda held out a hand and tugged Andy closer.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen the image before. She had given Nigel and the art department staff her okay on the final draft the night before, but looking at the finished product still caused inexplicable emotions to flutter in her chest.

_I am on the cover of Runway!_

Watching Miranda caress her printed face didn't make the situation any less surreal and Andy found that she couldn't do anything else but grin, stunned into silence.

"Look at you, a cover girl." The older woman said gently as her sparkly eyes found Andy's. "Who would have ever thought?"

"Not me," the brunette quipped and she hid her burning cheeks behind a palm.

"Hmmm, I will want a large print of this, framed and in my house. Preferably my bedroom," Miranda murmured, dropping the magazine back on the desk. She then slid her arms around the younger woman's waist and pulled them flush together.

"So. I'm dating a cover girl," she smirked. "How incredibly clichéd and potentially suffering from a mid-life crisis does that make me?"

_She said 'dating'! _

Andy chuckled happily and draped her arms around the editor's shoulders. "Very_._"

"This is going to be a long, hard day, Andrea," Miranda whispered as she leaned in to bury her face in the crook of the younger woman's neck. "It's going to be exceptionally difficult to keep my hands off of you."

"Hmmm," Andy nodded in agreement and trailed her finger tips tenderly up the editor's spine. "But keep in mind that now that you're human again, nothing will stop you from pizza night with the girls this evening. I'll make sure that your schedule is clear."

Miranda suddenly pulled back and gazed warmly into the brunette's eyes. "Join us."

"Uhm... huh?"

"Tonight. The girls and me. Join us." One of her hands had found the base of Andy's skull and was now caressing the sensitive skin just below her hair. "Judging by the enthusiastic behaviour on the phone, my girls will be thrilled to see you... and I'm not ready yet..." she brought their foreheads together, "to not have you around, even for a second."

Rubbing their noses together the editor allowed a heavy sigh. "I have gotten so used to lying curled up on your chest, that it's almost painful when I'm not touching you." She chuckled. "That seems incredibly silly, doesn't it?"

Andy tenderly stroked Miranda cheeks and shook her head. "No, that's not silly at all. It's sweet." She tilted her chin forward to place the ghost of a kiss on the older woman's mouth, careful to not mix their different shades of lipstick. "And yes, I would love to join you for dinner tonight."

The sound of the ringing phone in the outer office forced them apart and the assistant reluctantly let go of Miranda and walked back to the doors. The editor's eyes followed her with a hooded gaze and parted lips, and when Andy was about to pull at the door handle the older woman said, in her most sensual voice, "That's all."

Giving a radiant smile and eyes never leaving Miranda's, Andy pushed the double doors back to their usual position and then hurried to answer the phone.

"Miranda Priestly's office, how may I help you?"

"Get my wife on the phone," Stephen's voice came through the line, infused with evident rage.

Andy cringed. Granted, he was a cheating bastard and a drunk who liked to embarrass Miranda at official functions, but he was still her husband. _Hopefully not for long._ The brunette knew he was calling because of the divorce papers that Miranda's lawyers must have had messengered over to his office just this morning.

"Mr. Thomlinson," the assistant said loudly by way of warning Miranda, "I will see if she's available."

The editor had already sat down and waved for Andy to put him through.

While Miranda handled her agitated husband, the brunette couldn't help but occasionally glance over to get an idea of how things were going. Would Stephen cause trouble? Would he try and fight her? Andy of course knew nothing of their prenuptial agreements or other arrangements, but she really hoped everything would go smoothly.

The editor seemed in control of the conversation and at one point she even raised an eyebrow at Andy and gave her an encouraging and rather adorable little smirk.

"Well, well, well... the Queen is back and our Cover Princess is all bright and shiny..." The fashion director drawled from behind her.

"Nigel, hi!"

"Wow, she looks positively radiant." The bald man stood next to Andy and crossed his arms, watching Miranda regally speak into the phone behind her desk. "Being _sick _for a few days is really agreeing with her." He turned to the assistant with wide, humorous eyes that left no doubt about the fact that he knew well enough Miranda hadn't actually been ill.

"Who's she murdering on the phone?"

"Stephen," Andy sounded maybe a little bit too smug.

"You don't say?" He gave her his best '_uncle Nigel can sense something is up and will grill you later over drinks_' smile.

"Where's your gorgeous, furry little friend?"

"She went back to where she belongs," the brunette smiled and gazed at Miranda.

The editor smugly hung up the phone and Nigel waltzed into her office and picked up the faux fur issue from the desk.

"Irv is furious, the board has gone wild and sales are sky-rocketing." He smirked. "In short: another masterpiece."

Andy's heart swelled with affection when she watched how Miranda's lips drew into a purse to conceal an overly satisfied grin.

"And you weren't even around... probably hiding in some kind of luxurious spa resort, by the looks of it." He looked her playfully up and down and Miranda just tilted her head to the side as if to say, 'I know I look fabulous'.

"Well, I've had help, running the ship from a... distance," the fashion maven allowed the tug at her lips to widen when she looked up at her fashion director. "I'm glad to note that at least _some _of my staff still show up to work with functioning brains."

Nigel beamed. "Don't forget our Six over there. She was brilliant."

"Oh, how could I forget the most efficient assistant I've ever had...?" Miranda bit her bottom lip and dipped her head back to gaze at Andy through lowered lashes. The throb between the brunette's legs was explosive, and in order to hide the violent blush on her cheeks, she turned and quickly rushed behind her desk to sit down and calm her breathing.

At that moment Emily pushed through the doors with the coffee tray in hand and Serena following on her heels. The blonde's eyes immediately locked onto Andy, and when Emily hurried to deliver Miranda's coffee, Serena smiled.

"Congratulations, Andy. It's a great cover."

"Thank you," the junior assistant whispered meekly and offered a crooked grin in return. Emily's tall Brazilian friend had been nice to Andy ever since the brunette had started to make an effort to understand fashion and its industry. As much as Emily hated it, Serena's good nature seemed to calm the still occasionally low-boiling animosity between the two assistants.

The redhead returned to her desk and sat down in her chair, facing Andy. She stared for a while, taking in the brunette's blouse and skirt, most likely trying to assess why the clothes seemed familiar, although they weren't from the Closet, and after a while she shifted in her seat and licked her pouty lips.

"What... how did you... when..." she almost stuttered. "I mean... you aren't exactly a model... and... you eat carbs for Christ's sake."

Andy wasn't sure how to answer. She knew for someone as obsessed with Runway as Emily, it must be hard to come to work one morning and find that her dorky, Mid-Western colleague, who hadn't known Gabanna from Gucci seven months ago, was displayed on the cover.

"It just kind of happened... Nigel had the idea at the photo shoot... and then Miranda gave her okay..." She shrugged helplessly, aware that an explanation wouldn't make the redhead feel any better.

"I think you look beautiful in the photo," Serena said and flinched when Emily smacked her arm rather hard. "What?" The blonde turned toward her friend. "She does."

"Oh please," the redhead scoffed. "It's just a head shot with that _rat _thing... you can't even see the rest of her fat body..."

"Emily, I do not care for the way you speak to Andrea..." came the sudden, icy voice of their boss. Miranda stood in the doorway to her office, one hand on her hip and eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"I... I... yes, Miranda," Emily mumbled in shock.

Andy realised that this was the first time that the older woman had interfered during one of the senior assistant's belittling rants. The fact that Miranda would risk picking sides and actually become involved, gave the brunette a strange new feeling of protection. Nate had never defended her when their mutual friends had mocked Andy's job or her dedication to Miranda. No, he had actually joined in. Putting his girlfriend down had been amusing to him.

And now Miranda, who could probably pass as a grand master of the most carefully constructed, most severe insults, was stepping up and coming to her defence.

Before Andy could reveal the nature of her musings through excessive, love-struck grinning, the editor turned around to address her.

"Andrea, did Meisel confirm?"

"Not yet, he's still in Rome, but I'll get a hold of his assistant right now," she picked up the phone, instantly thrown back into her most perfect assistant mode, when Miranda continued.

"When you're done, contact the moving company to come by later this week for Stephen's _things_," the older woman waved her hands in front of her chest and shrugged in disinterest, "and schedule a meeting with Leslie for tomorrow morning to see what we can do to minimise the press... on all this."

"On it," Andy smiled while already browsing for the contact information of the movers.

"Oh, and Andrea," Miranda leaned forward, slightly angling herself over the junior assistant's desk. "The girls arrive at five-thirty. Adjust our schedule accordingly."

"Uh-huh... Consider it done."

The fashion maven's back was turned to Emily and Serena and she took the opportunity to offer Andy a cheeky smirk, and then took a long, pointed look at the brunette's cleavage.

"That's all."

Trying her best to ignore the delightful buzz in her ears at Miranda's especially enticing walk back into her office, Andy set about the given tasks with vigour.

Helping Stephen move his ass out of the house - no problem. Getting Leslie to keep the divorce out of the press - definitely. Making sufficient changes to _their_ schedules that would allow Miranda to have her girls back in her arms as soon as possible - her life's mission.

* * *

><p>Andy tried to remember the last time she'd had pizza. It wasn't necessarily that she had consciously eliminated junk food from her diet, but in the past few months she had simply not had time to hang out with her friends and order pizza. Late-night, pre-packaged salads at the office had quickly become a staple food for her, and now that she looked down at the enticing slice of Italian ingenuity, she realised how much she had missed it.<p>

Watching Miranda welcome home her daughters and seeing the loving mother in the editor surface when she had wrapped the twins into a firm, tearful hug, had opened even more of the brunette's heart for the queen of fashion.

The girls had been curious, but amendable when the older woman had explained that Andy would join their pizza feast, and as they sat at the dining room table the friendly banter of their phone calls returned easily.

"We saw the cover of Mom's magazine at school today," Cassidy explained around a mouthful of cheese.

"Yeah," Caroline chimed in. "What ever that white, fluffy thing is, it's so cute!"

Miranda almost choked on her food. "_Cute_?"

The brunette, however, burst into giggles at the older woman's face and the fact that her daughter had just indirectly complimented her. In Andy's opinion, human Miranda wasn't far behind the mink when it came to being the most adorable creature on earth.

"It's a mink," the younger woman explained to the girls, while the editor calmed herself down with a sip of wine.

"What's a mink?" Cassidy asked.

"It sort of belongs to the weasel family." Andy continued. "It's indigenous to most of North America and Europe and it's one of the most popular animals to use in the fur industry."

"Fur industry?" Caroline looked alert and faced her mother with glassy eyes. "So this cute mink... is a... coat now?"

Miranda's mouth opened, but she didn't seem able to respond to that shocking insinuation, so the brunette stepped in.

"Oh god no, Caroline!" She gave an encouraging smile. "The beautiful, little mink from that photo went back to be with her family."

Both twins gave a sigh of relief.

"So what's it like to touch it? Is it really soft?" Cassidy inquired further, while Caroline made quick work of the rest of her pizza slice.

"Yes. Incredibly soft," the assistant replied, waving her hand in the air as if she were petting an invisible creature. "And you know what the most adorable thing is?" She asked the girls, but turned to look at Miranda. "When you stroke it behind the ears and it gives a little purr... almost like a kitten."

The editor quickly reached for her glass to take another sip, before the blush on her cheeks could become too prominent. Andy grinned, but her giggles where drowned out by the sudden chorus of whiny twins.

"Oh Mom, can we please get a pet mink?"

"Yes, _please_! We promise to be the best daughters ever!"

"No," was their mother's abrupt La Priestly reply that sounded a lot like she had just shot down another one of Paul's uninspired shoot location ideas in an editorial meeting.

"_Pleeeeeaaaase!_"

The brunette watched tandem pouts of the highest skill level be aimed at Miranda, and the editor turned her gaze down to her plate to pretend that she wasn't affected.

"Maybe."

"Yay!"

"Alright!"

A feeling of tenderness swept over Andy as she watched Miranda grin at the twins. This little family probably had its problems, just like every other household, but to the brunette they were perfect. The way the older woman interacted with her daughters confirmed the image of the gentle, loving character behind the Snow Queen mask that Andy had glimpsed a few times in the past months, and been fully invited to see this morning. Her heart buzzed and she had to take a deep breath to keep from trembling at the intense love that bubbled up inside of her.

The rest of dinner was equally entertaining, and the assistant noted that Caroline and Cassidy didn't even comment on the absence of Stephen. It seemed that he hadn't been part of the family for a while - if he'd ever truly been - and the girls' lives didn't include him much at all.

After a dessert of sugar-free lemon parfait, the girls retreated upstairs to do their homework and Miranda led Andy into her home office. It felt a bit strange to be back in that room, just a few days after her and mink-Miranda had caught Stephen and his business partner's wife down the hall. None of that seemed to be on the editor's mind, though when she closed the door behind them and gently pushed the younger woman toward the couch.

When her butt hit the soft cushion, Andy smirked up at the queen of fashion. "I thought you wanted to _wait_... and take things _slowly_."

"I said no such thing, Andrea. Maybe it's time you had your ears examined," was the playfully snooty reply. "If I recall correctly, I had merely suggested that we," she placed one knee on the cushion to the side of Andy's thigh, "would need to be," the other knee followed so that she was straddling the younger woman's lap, "... _careful_."

Miranda's sensual bite to her own bottom lip almost distracted the brunette from the feeling of the editor lowering herself fully onto her legs. Restricted by their tight skirts it was a close fit, but the warmth and weight of Miranda on her forced Andy to lean backward with a content sigh. She reached out to bring the fashion maven with her, and as soon as their chests touched, they hummed in unison and wrapped their arms around each other.

Miranda rubbed her face in the crook of Andy's neck, always returning to the very spot she had loved to nuzzle as a mink, and the brunette smiled into white, silken hair.

"I've wanted to do this all day," the editor admitted with a sigh. "Well... actually I've wanted to do this for months..."

Andy reveled in the feel of the older woman's nose brushing against her skin. There was something incredibly warm and soothing in these simple caresses, that she had never experienced with anyone else before. It was almost ironic that out of all the people in her life, the Dragon Lady had turned out to be the sweetest. Overcome with affection, the brunette trailed her fingers lightly through Miranda's hair and was rewarded with a happy, little growl that echoed strongly between her thighs.

She wanted Miranda. Especially with the teasing dreams and this morning's delicious wake-up call. However, some things were still left unsaid, and there was a slumbering uncertainty in Andy's heart. Knowing she was about to ruin the mood, the assistant tenderly stroked the older woman's back and planted a kiss just below a defined jaw bone.

"So... Stephen is more or less gone?"

"Hmmm, yes," Miranda mumbled against the younger woman's throat. "As soon as I brought up Gloria, he was eager to cooperate and I believe he signed the papers right away. We had a water-tight prenuptial agreement, keeping our fortunes entirely separate, so he should disappear from our lives fairly quickly."

Andy was slightly taken aback by the indifference in Miranda's voice. "You're not going to miss him, even a little?"

"No." The editor sat up and gazed down to where her fingers rested against the assistant's collar bone. "Our marriage was more or less a business arrangement," she said quietly. "As pathetic as it sounds, I thought I needed a husband to ensure a more... _stable_ position as editor-in-chief, with Irv constantly trying to get rid of me. I also felt like the girls still needed a father... _figure _around," she snorted elegantly and slipped her hands around Andy's neck. "As it turned out he wasn't just a lousy 'dad', but he also managed to do nothing but embarrass me every time I brought him along to a gala or dinner."

The brunette nodded in agreement. She remembered Stephen's drunken display at the Met Ball rather vividly.

"The thing is," Miranda gazed intently into her assistant's eyes. "I have no emotional attachment to that man. I never did."

"Oh..." Andy couldn't hide her shock at the admission. She didn't quite understand why Miranda would marry someone she didn't love.

"I..." the editor whispered, fingertips absently stroking the nape of Andy's neck. "Until recently I didn't think I could combine my _true feelings_... with my life."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm fifty, Andrea..." she gave a pained half grin. "And in a rather powerful position. I had more or less surrendered myself to closing off my heart, and creating the personal life the world needed to see in order for me to stay successful professionally. If that meant hiding part of who I was, I was willing to pay the price so I could give my girls and the magazine what I thought they needed."

"I... I don't think I understand."

The older woman exhaled forcefully, clearly frustrated that she had to spell things out.

"I'm not exactly... _straight,_ Andrea. In case you hadn't noticed."

"Oh..." the brunette heard herself mumble dumbly. Of course Miranda had confessed to having sexually-tinted dreams about her, not to mention the moist proof on her leg that very morning that the editor was more than a little affected by her assistant's almost naked body beneath her own.

"Yeah... I kinda noticed," she replied with a sheepish smile and was delighted when the older woman smiled back.

"Now... thanks to being the adorable, furry fly on your wall for a few days," Miranda bit her lip again and Andy felt herself clench at the perfect mix of sensuality and mischief, "I found out that my growing attraction to you wasn't all that one-sided."

"Nope. Not one-sided at all," the younger woman giggled and slid down her hands to gently cup the editor's behind. "I guess I'm not _exactly straight_ either."

"Yes, so it appears," Miranda smiled. "And cook-boy had an inkling..."

At the mention of Nate, Andy had to cringe. She wasn't exactly proud of breaking his heart.

"I'm sorry about biting him," the editor turned her head to rest her cheek on the younger woman's chest bone and one of her hands began to soothingly stroke up and down Andy's arm. "He just... he tried to fondle you... and I felt _possessive_."

The brunette laughed, "you know, I should be angry at you for that. You can't just go around biting people for my sake..." she tenderly nosed Miranda's ear lobe. "But it was incredibly funny and... it felt _nice_... that you'd protect me like that..."

"Hmmm," the editor mumbled, "don't mention it."

"And Nate was right. You... you sort of had taken over my life. In a _good _way," she hurried to add. "Well... not so good for Nate and I, but you've become the most important person in the world to me, Miranda."

Snowy locks shook when the older woman abruptly lifted her head to look at the assistant. "I have?"

"Yes..."

And then Miranda's lips were on hers. Warm, wet tongues met and slid together carefully, caressing in languid strokes that slowly picked up speed. The editor moaned into the kiss when Andy's hands began to rhythmically squeeze her butt, and their groins commenced to move in a lazy waltz against each other.

Driven by new-found courage, Andy stroked down Miranda's thighs and hooked under the hem of the older woman's skirt. Aided by eagerly lifted hips, she managed to push up the fabric to the hips and the queen of fashion opened her legs wider and pressed herself greedily against the assistant.

Even through the silk of her blouse, Andy could feel Miranda's heat, and the memory of that morning returned, bringing along a wild rush of arousal. Miranda was so beautiful... and warm... and alive. As they continued to explore each other's mouths, the brunette recalled how desperately she had missed the editor's body just twenty-four hours ago, and a sudden, feral need guided her hands back to the now exposed buttocks, which she gripped firmly, pulling Miranda hard against herself.

"Oh... Andrea," the older woman moaned, breaking their kiss. "Yes..."

Andy immediately latched onto the smooth column of Miranda's neck, suckling tenderly at the satin skin and delighting in the helpless little, whimpers the editor was producing.

The sudden melody of the assistant's cell phone cut through their feverish make-out session and Andy groaned in frustration as she leaned her forehead against Miranda's shoulder. The older woman chuckled and hugged her tightly.

"Let's just ignore it. It can't be important," she nuzzled Miranda's collar bone, "because you're right here with me."

"Yes," the editor chuckled warmly, "yes, I am." Her hands pulled at Andy's blouse, freeing it from the confines of the skirt, and she slipped warm palms over the younger woman's belly.

"Hmmm, so much nicer without fur..." Miranda murmured against the assistant's lips as the phone stopped ringing.

"Is that so?" Andy quipped cheekily, allowing her tongue to sneak out and brush over the older woman's pliant mouth.

The phone rang again and this time Miranda leaned back to fetch it from the coffee table. "Let's turn this thing off," she spat at the device before talking a look at the screen. "Oh."

"What is it?"

"As much as I'd love you ravish you right now, Andrea, I don't think we're at the point in our relationship yet, where I can hang up on your mother.

"What?" Andy almost shrieked and pulled the phone from the hands of a smirking Miranda.

"Oh crap..." she quickly picked up. "Hi, Mom!"

The editor was giggling and buried her face in the crook of Andy's neck to muffle her sounds.

"Andrea, what on earth is happening!" Mrs. Sachs asked almost hysterically.

"What do you mean, Mom?" The brunette grimaced and then gave a playful smack to Miranda's backside to tell her to stop laughing.

"What do I mean? Honey, your face is on that magazine you work for! Your dad and I only found out this evening when Sally came over and brought us a copy!"

"Uhm... okay..."

_"Okay?_ When were you going to tell us? Can you imagine how uncomfortable it is when your neighbour is the first to bring attention to the fact that your daughter is on the cover of a national magazine?"

Andy sighed and Miranda looked up worried. "Mom, it was a last minute thing. The photo was taken only this Saturday and Miranda decided to use it for the cover late last night, right before it went for the printers."

"_That woman _put your photo on the cover?"

"Yes, Mom," Andy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Miranda is the only one who can make the final decisions. She's the editor-in-chief. So yes, _she _put me on the cover. But I gave my consent."

"I thought she hated you?" Mrs. Sachs sounded a bit confused.

"No," Andy managed to smile sweetly at the editor. "She doesn't hate me. Far from it."

"What do you mean?"

"Mom, have you even looked at the rest of the magazine? There's a three-page article, that I wrote."

"What? Where?"

"Uhm... page... one-hundred..." she scrunched her nose in an attempt to remember the exact number.

"Forty-seven," Miranda whispered helpfully and the brunette beamed at her.

"One-hundred-and-forty-seven, Mom."

The sound of fluttering pages could be heard and then Mrs. Sachs gasped.

"Honey, that's wonderful! Richard," she spoke away from the phone. "Come, look at this."

Andy could hear her father say "Wow!" in the background.

"So what does Nate say? And your friends?" Andy's mother inquired.

"Oh... about Nate..."

Miranda moved to get up, but the brunette looked up in alarm and covered the speaker to whisper, "please stay."

The editor nodded with a surprised, little smile and sat back down in the spot next to Andy. When the assistant began explaining about her break-up with Nate, the older woman slid down to rest her head on the brunette's lap and reached for her unoccupied hand.

"So does that mean there's someone else?" Mrs. Sachs asked, knowing her daughter a little too well.

"Uhm..." Andy looked down to where Miranda was tenderly tracing along the bite marks on the assistant's palm.

"Yes, you could say that."

"Will we get to meet them?"

"Uh... yes... although maybe not too soon..." the brunette revelled in the editor's gentle caresses and she knew she wanted to forgo the drama and revelations and keep Miranda to herself a while longer. "Hey... wait a minute... _them_?"

"Well... that was a woman's laugh just now, wasn't it?"

"Uhm... yes..." Andy almost squeaked.

"Well..." Mrs. Sachs began, but evidently didn't know what else to say, and an awkward silence crept over the connection.

"Honey... are you happy?" She finally asked.

The brunette looked down at the beautiful older woman who gazed back up at her with concern and affection.

"Yes, Mom. Yes I am." She wiggled her hand free from Miranda's grasp and trailed her fingers up and over the editor's smooth cheeks.

"Then that's all we need to know, for now."

Andy tenderly stroked behind Miranda's ear and scratched lightly at the base of her neck, while their eyes locked.

"Thanks, Mom. That means a lot to me."

"Yes... well. Goodnight, Honey."

"Goodnight, Mom. Say hi to Dad." She hung up.

Miranda purred when Andy gently threaded her fingers through the editor's silken locks, and the brunette was reminded of the night she had brushed mink-Miranda while speaking about the twins. The look of trust and understanding in the older woman's eyes was enthralling, and she leaned down to capture Miranda's lips in another kiss.

Two pairs of loud footsteps clambered down the stairs and approached the home office at running speed.

_Speaking of the twins..._

Reluctantly, Miranda sat up and straightened her skirt.

"Sorry," she gave Andy's hand a final squeeze.

"It's okay... we'll have plenty of time..." the brunette whispered sweetly before the door was yanked open and two enthusiastic, little redheads stormed inside.

"Is Andy still here?"

* * *

><p><em>Plenty of time<em> turned out not to happen over the following four days. With the magazine sales thriving after their faux fur issue and Miranda revising several planned spreads and shoots, work was overwhelming. Although they saw each other throughout the entire day, the editor and her junior assistant hardly had any time alone.

On Tuesday they had shared two kisses in Miranda's private bathroom and one brief hug in the kitchenette. Wednesday morning they had managed a few minutes alone in the fashion maven's office, but their careful make-out session, being on a constant watch for potential intruders, had only left them more needy. Most of Thursday was spent by Miranda at a long-winded board meeting that ended up getting Runway's monthly budget increased. To celebrate, the editor had brought Andy to an empty room on the thirty-seventh floor where, after ten minutes of delicious kissing, they had nearly been discovered by the maintenance crew.

Needless to say, on Friday they were on the verge of exploding from pent-up sexual frustration.

"Jeez, would you stop bloody sighing already!" Emily scoffed from behind her desk.

"Sorry, Em... I'm just tired..." Andy rubbed her cheeks and tried to concentrate on her computer screen.

"You'd think with your sudden fame you'd be a lot more chipper and less of a drag," the redhead mumbled as she flung her chair around and jumped up to retrieve a print-out from behind her.

"Are you still angry about that?" The brunette asked, facing her colleague.

"Yes," was the snappish answer and Emily stapled the papers together and sat back down without further comment.

"Look, Emily. I..."

Her newest in a countless array of attempts to smooth over the senior assistant's jealousy was aborted when Miranda came walking down the corridor, arms laden with a stack of style books. Andy immediately bolted from her desk and hurried to hold the door open for her boss.

"Thank you, Andrea," the older woman spoke softly and the brunette almost melted at the tiny smile on the editor's lips.

"You're welcome," she whispered and readily took a few folders from the older woman's hands. Silently they walked to Miranda's office and dropped the style books on the coffee table in the corner.

"The girls have a sleepover tonight," Miranda said quietly before chewing on her bottom lip. Andy had to clench her fists to stop herself from stealing a kiss. "So...I want to take you out to dinner and then we can return to the town house without being disturbed..."

The assistant glanced back to the doors to ensure they were still alone, before answering, "that sounds lovely. What time?"

"Be ready at seven." Miranda briefly stroked down Andy's arm and then walked back to her desk to pick up a folder.

"Get these to Nigel. Tell him the colours are too heavy, but the bow ties will work."

"Ah-hum."

They shared a smile and Andy turned around to make her way to the fashion director's office. Miranda no longer used her typical phrase to dismiss her, because when it came to the two of them, _it_ would never just _be all_.

Careful to hide the spring in her step, the junior assistant hurried past a sulking Emily and clacked her way through the corridor to Nigel. When she reached the glass door to his creative lair she stopped dead in her tracks.

Standing beside the bespectacled man at the large centre table, holding up a back issue of Runway, was the blue-haired girl that had threatened to throw a paint bomb at Andy just a week ago. The brunette frowned. What was a PETA activist doing in Nigel's office?

"Hi, Nigel," Andy stepped inside, causing both to look up. "Too heavy on the colours, but bow ties are a go." She handed the folder to the fashion director and eyed the girl, who seemed to recognise her.

"Uhm... hi," the girl greeted shyly.

"Six, meet my niece, Jessie Kipling." He patted the girl's blue hair. "Sweetie, this is Andy Sachs, the author of the article you enjoyed so much."

"Nigel... we've already met." Andy said neutrally, the memory of their little stand-off outside the building preventing her normal friendliness to surface.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Jessie mumbled meekly.

"Really, Nigel, bringing a PETA activist to the office?" The brunette asked, eyes not leaving the pierced girl in front of her.

"As she is the only member of my family who doesn't question _my _'life style', I will not question _hers_," the fashion director answered wistfully and Andy's demeanour softened. She couldn't be angry with the only person in Nigel's family who accepted his sexuality.

"Listen, I'm sorry about the other day... we didn't know who you were or that the mink was actually alive..." Jessie said quietly, her head bowed to study her fumbling fingers.

"I guess... it's okay... nobody got hurt in the end." The brunette managed a smile. "Just make sure you don't judge too easily in the future, alright?"

The girl nodded. "Oh yes... I won't make that mistake again. How did you train the mink to do that anyway?"

Nigel gazed between the Andy and his niece, puzzled. "Do what?"

"Uncle Nigel, I swear the look that animal gave us... I could actually feel the skin melt off my face..."

The fashion director tilted his chin down and looked at the brunette over the rim of his spectacles. "Is that so? _Mira, _the blue-eyed, white-coated mink with flesh-melting glares and an affinity for certain junior assistants." He smirked at Andy. "Interesting."

"Yes, well... I gotta go," the brunette stammered and retreated back toward the door. "You know... work... and _stuff_..."

She actually ran back to her desk.

* * *

><p>"I swear it was almost like he <em>knew<em>," Andy told Miranda in the car after they had left work that evening. "There was just something in his smile... I don't know..."

"Do you think he has anything to do with our _shaman-friend_?" The older woman said quietly as she watched the lit-up New York streets fly by.

The brunette frowned. "I don't know... he's Nigel... he wouldn't betray you, would he?"

"Hmmm... betray... no, I don't think so." She turned around to look at Andy. "However I wouldn't put it past him to... _manipulate _a few things here and there."

"Hmmm, maybe. I still don't want to think badly of him. Maybe it's all just a coincidence." The brunette murmured as she tried to figure out where exactly they were going.

"Well, it matters not," the older woman decided. "It all worked out in the end." She glanced briefly at the brunette and smirked before turning back toward the window.

"Yeah," Andy giggled. "And we'll have a great story to tell our children..."

She froze.

_Shit... did I just say 'children'?_

She couldn't believe they were on their way to their first official date, and she had brought up offspring. Not to mention that Miranda already had two beautiful daughters, and assuming that at one point they could be considered both of theirs, was just preposterous. Andy blushed violently and began to fidget while looking anywhere but at the silent woman next to her.

Suddenly warm digits closed around her wrist and Miranda pulled the brunette's hand into her lap, linking their fingers together.

"Yes, we will," the editor whispered, and the assistant carefully chanced a look to find a warm and dreamy expression on the older woman's face.

Andy smiled and caressed Miranda's palm with her thumb, feeling giddy when the fashion maven quirked her lips and turned to look back outside.

"So... where are you taking me?"

"Back to the beginning..." Miranda said softly.

Andy frowned. "The beginning? You mean... a place where they eat poly-blend sweaters? Such a place exists?"

The older woman gave her a stern look, refusing to dignify the younger woman's lame joke with a response.

"I wonder what wine would go best with cerulean, probably _Pinot Noir_... something a bit lighter, you know to cancel out 'casual corner' bitterness..."

Miranda finally snorted and the brunette giggled along, proud that she had managed to make the editor laugh.

"You are ridiculous, Andrea!"

"Yes," Andy looked down at their joined hands and squeezed Miranda's fingers tightly. "I certainly am. So, are you going to tell me which beginning you were actually referring to? "

"We're having raw fish, Andrea." The older woman stated.

"Oh, _that _beginning." The brunette grinned. "Now _that_ was ridiculous!"

"Yes it was," Miranda chuckled and Andy beamed at the playfulness between them.

They arrived at their destination and Roy, who had become an expert at pretending nothing unusual was happening in the back of his car this week, opened the door for them.

"Wow, this place looks wonderful," the younger woman gazed around after they had stepped through the _noren_ and into the small, but cosy sushi restaurant.

"Yes, its rather quaint, but their sashimi is the best in all of New York." Miranda said as an older lady, dressed in a silk kimono, led them to their seats. They were asked to remove their shoes before they stepped up into a raised back room that was covered in _tatami _mats, and Andy was treated to a delicate view of the editor's calves when Miranda elegantly lowered herself to kneel in front of the low table.

"Well," Andy grinned as she sat down opposite the editor. "I like it already."

The small room was partitioned off the rest of the restaurant and gave them much needed privacy.

"Have you ever had sushi before?" Miranda asked after they had been served green tea.

"Uhm... yes... but we've only gone to 'sushi happy hours'... you know. All-you-can-eat type restaurants. Nothing ever this nice," she smiled as she looked around. She wasn't entirely sure what she had imagined Miranda would choose for their first date. Fancy five star cuisine had seemed possible, but the assistant hadn't really looked forward to accompanying the editor to one of the stingy places where she took business dinner companions.

This little Japanese place was a very positive surprise. It was a hidden gem and utterly romantic.

"Well," Miranda raised her tea cup. "To ridiculous beginnings... and a wonderful evening." The smile she gave Andy was full of affection, warmth and anticipation, and when the brunette raised her own cup, she got lost in the older woman's radiant gaze.

"To _us_."

Their eyes remained locked as Andy sipped from the _sencha_, allowing the hot infusion to warmly run down into her stomach and soothe her nerves.

"Andrea," Miranda set down the tea and leaned slightly across the table. "I want you to write another article for Runway."

"Huh?"

"Current eloquence notwithstanding," the editor smiled crookedly, "you have a way with words. I think you have a great writing career lying ahead of you."

"Oh," Andy was flabbergasted. Coming from Miranda that was more than just a compliment. The older woman never bothered with idle chatter and insincerity. She was brutally honest, which often resulted in bruised egos and crushed spirits. But receiving a positive remark from the 'Snow Queen' was like a healing balm on the soul. It made everything seem possible and the world a mere playground for excellence.

"Thank you."

"So... given our current... _situation_, I think you need to eventually move on from the post as my assistant." Miranda reached across the table to take the younger woman's hand. "Although I don't know how I will be able to cope without your... smart, little brain around."

"I understand," the brunette smiled sadly and looked down at their interlaced fingers. "I'll miss being so close to you all day long, but if I move to another department, I'll just be right down the hall. And I would love to write for Runway."

They gazed at each other, filled with the knowledge that this would solidify their future together.

"I never thought I'd say this, Andrea," Miranda's eyes were shining and she gently brushed her thumb over the inside of Andy's wrist. "I see a great deal of myself in you. You can see beyond what people _want_... and you give them what they _need._"

The brunette felt dizzy from the almost pleading tenderness in the older woman's eyes. She knew that what Miranda wanted and what she needed at that moment, were both the same thing. Leaning closer she was about to kiss the queen of fashion, when the paper screen door slid open and their food was served.

The salmon sashimi was the best thing Andy had ever eaten, she was sure of that. The way it almost dissolved on her tongue was pure magic, and the brunette could tell by looking at the older woman, that Miranda enjoyed it just as much.

"Hmmm, you know it's strange, but it is so very different to eat this as a person, than to... _tear_ into it as a little predator," the editor licked her lips after swallowing another piece. "As an animal, there are distinct tastes, but you experience no..." she gazed up at Andy, "_pleasure_ from eating something... _so delicious_."

The younger woman shivered at the way Miranda had pronounced 'pleasure' and 'delicious', which, by the look on the older woman's face, had been exactly her intention.

"I read somewhere," Andy savoured the lingering flavour on her tongue before retaliating, "that eating sushi... is like going down on a woman."

Miranda dropped her chopsticks, and the exposed skin of her cleavage turned a beautiful shade of pink. However, the brunette's victorious smirk faltered and was replaced by a most furious blush of her own, the moment the editor leaned across the table and whispered, "well... we will need to conduct some in-depth research on that subject, won't we?"

* * *

><p>Exactly <em>how <em>they had managed to get to the town house, Andy couldn't say. It was all a blur of fleeting touches and playful teasing that had left both them completely flustered by the time they arrived at Miranda's front door. The editor fumbled with the lock, fingers trembling, and when they had finally hurried inside, she quickly set the alarm and then sauntered toward the main stairs.

The brunette could only watch mesmerised when Miranda elegantly shrugged off her coat and ascended each step with such an enticing sway to her hips that Andy's throat felt like it was made of sandpaper by the time the older woman had disappeared from view to the upper floor.

"Andrea, don't dawdle," came Miranda's sultry, disembodied voice and the distinct trickle between her legs finally kicked the younger woman into action and she sped up the stairs. On the second floor landing, she found the editor's discarded coat and bag, and as she hurried up the final flight of stairs, she sincerely hoped that Miranda wouldn't strip any further. Revealing every last inch of that beautiful and very human body was definitely Andy's job.

Miranda stood leaning against the wall next to her bedroom, and when the brunette spotted the editor, she slowed her jog down the hallway to a stroll.

"Hi," she whispered breathlessly, the race up the stairs and the vision before her, robbing her of all remaining oxygen. The older woman's chest was heaving, her shoulders were pressed back and she gazed at Andy through dabbed lashes with such fire that the brunette's knees almost gave out.

"Finally," Miranda drawled. "One would think with your vibrant youth..." she slowly swept her eyes over the younger woman's body, "you'd be able to keep up with an old soul like me." She reached for Andy's hand and pulled her in for a kiss.

Despite the crackling tension they kept their movements light and gentle, and the brunette took her time to absorb the other woman. The warmth coming off Miranda's body lured her in like a cosy fire in winter, and her sweet, rich scent felt like a homecoming. Andy pushed herself fully against the soft curves, delighting in the sensual roll of hips that welcomed her.

Miranda's pinstripe pencil skirt and matching Bill Blass jacket had been torturing Andy all day. The golden silk wrap camisole the editor wore underneath, was entirely too low cut for the brunette to function, and she had imagined what it would be like to slide her palms under the teasing jacket and around the editor's waist all day. Now that she had Miranda finally to herself and practically pinned against the wall, she did exactly that.

The action was rewarded with a long, firm stroke of the older woman's tongue against her own, and strong hands gripped Andy by the hips. Guided by what must have been her previously-dormant, lesbian instincts, she slid her palms over the small of Miranda's back, down to the editor's gorgeous ass and grabbed her firmly, holding her in place as their groins collided once again.

Her mouth was plundered as if it held the secrets to a great treasure that could be coaxed with gently nibbling lips and an impatient tongue. Eager hands strayed from her hips, wandering over her sides and snaking their way ever so slowly to her butt, until they both squeezed each other in tandem. Their tongues fell into the rhythm of their hands and hips, causing their bodies to pulse against each other in near ecstasy.

"Oh god," Miranda pulled away with such a guttural groan that Andy nearly came from the sound of it.

"Andrea... not out here..." the editor panted.

The brunette felt completely dazed as she watched the older woman lick her swollen lips, cheeks rosy and throat moving with gulps for air. She couldn't quite believe that she had caused Miranda to get into this state, and the wondrous realisation gentled her touches.

She took a step back and lightly trailed her fingertips up the older woman's spine. Never before had anyone looked at Andy with the amount of desire that now poured all over her body from the wells of the editor's darkened, blue-green pools. The bond they had unknowingly built over the past few months, strengthened by the ultimate trust and deep affection that had been born during their furry, little adventure together, formed such a base of unity between them that the brunette knew she couldn't hold anything back.

"I love you."

The whisper wasn't as much a necessary declaration as it was a release of all those overwhelming feelings that swirled around in Andy's chest. Deep down they both already knew about each other's sincerity and emotional investment in this.

Miranda's lips pulled into the most beautiful, radiant smile the younger woman had ever seen, and she was convinced that if the world could see the Snow Queen now, they would rename her 'Sun Goddess'. Reaching over to turn the door knob, Miranda used her other hand to tightly thread their fingers together, before gently tugging Andy into the bedroom.

The subtle scent of lilies drew the younger woman's attention to the strategically placed floral arrangements and she grinned. Miranda had _so_ planned this.

"Come," the editor whispered as she pulled the brunette to the side of the bed, which now sported white and gold satin sheets that looked like one could drown in them. Warm fingers reached up and caressed Andy's cheeks.

"I love you, as well." Miranda whispered while her thumb stroked tenderly over the younger woman's chin. "More than I believe I will ever be able to show you."

Their mouths met again, the connection less frantic and more of a means to ground them, and Miranda's hands slipped around the brunette's waist and to the zipper of the aubergine Gucci skirt that Andy knew had attracted the editor's longing gaze more than once in the office that day. The fabric loosened and warm palms slid under the velvet to slowly ease it down over rounded hips.

Miranda's tongue curled around Andy's, holding her gently in place as the garment pooled around four-inch Louboutins. The brunette carefully stepped out of the skirt and noted with surprise how the older woman kicked the expensive piece of couture out of the way. The mild shock didn't distract her for long, though, and she guided her hands back around Miranda's middle and up to her neck, where she hooked under the Bill Blass jacket and slowly pushed it over elegant shoulders.

Once it had joined the Gucci skirt on the carpet Andy needed to pull back to fully appreciate the beautiful silk camisole. The large jade globe necklace fell perfectly between the exposed swells of Miranda's breasts and the brunette felt her mouth water as she slowly untied the closure of the wrap. She wanted to unfold the older woman's body like a precious gift, taking her time as she looked intently into blue-green swirls.

When the garment fell open and revealed a charcoal strapless bra that was so delicate that it was a perfect match for the pale skin it barely hid, Andy's heart nearly thumped out of her chest. She peeled the layers of golden silk away and slipped the wrap camisole off Miranda's arms, taking a moment to caress the editor's wrists, before adding the piece of clothing to the growing pile of designer garments.

"You're so unbelievably beautiful, Miranda."

She reached for the necklace and raised it past the older woman's flushed cheeks and over her snowy head. Andy knew that the jewellery was worth more than eight-thousand dollars, so instead of tossing it around, she stepped past Miranda and carefully placed it on the night stand instead. Warm arms encircled her waist from behind and before she could turn back around, the older woman pulled her firmly against herself.

"Andrea..." Miranda whispered into her hair. "I can't quite believe that this isn't just another dream."

The months of sadness and longing were evident in her voice and Andy felt her heart tremble with the urge to smooth over any remaining doubts the older woman might have about the reality of them. She leaned back her head to rest against a bare shoulder and reached behind her to pull the editor's warm body closer.

"Mira... I'm right here... and I want this more than anything..."

Lips found the nape of her neck and the hands around her middle slowly slid up her front. When Miranda's palms gently cupped her breasts through the fabric of her satin blouse, Andy was reminded of their last dream together and how wonderful it had felt already then. Their mutual fantasy, however, had not prepared her for the intensity of reality, and when the older woman began to slowly kneed her flesh and breathed hotly against her neck, the brunette arched back with a groan, squirming under the overwhelming sensation.

"Oh god... please... not yet... oh..."

The editor seemed to understand and tenderly trailed her fingers higher, to Andy's collar bones, where she traced along the rim of the blouse, until she met the top button and swiftly opened it. The younger woman hummed when the back of Miranda's nails briefly caressed along her chest bone, and skilful digits travelled lower to make quick work of the next button. Alternating between lightly stroking down the newly revealed path of skin, and proceeding to unbutton the garment, Miranda continued to nibble at the top of Andy's spine.

"Darling," she whispered between licks and kisses, "you smell absolutely divine."

Andy moaned when gentle fingers brushed over the front clasp of her bra.

"You know..." the older woman continued as her hands moved lower. "As a mink, my sense of smell was significantly heightened..."

There went another button.

"And although I lacked the physical responses in that small, furry body, your scent did incredible things to me... _in my mind_. I still possessed the memories of what desire felt like...," Miranda pushed her hips forward to rub sensually against Andy's backside. "... and _arousal_."

The brunette exhaled sharply when the older woman's fingers dipped into her belly button.

"The mornings after our shared dreams," the editor continued, "there always seemed to be one particularly delicious smell coming from you..."

_Oh god... Miranda could smell how turned on I was! _Andy's heart pounded violently against her chest.

"It drove me wild... the longing to be turned back into a human..." she took care of the final button and peeled open the blouse, knuckles brushing over the younger woman's stomach and hips. "... and be able to touch you," she nipped at an earlobe and eased the satin off Andy's shoulders in one fluid motion, "like this."

Before the garment hit the floor, Andy had already turned around and she crushed their bodies together in a forceful kiss. Bare arms slid around warm backs and the sensation of their breasts touching, with nothing but the thin lace of their bras between them, was a death sentence for the brunette's panties. She could feel Miranda's firm nipples brush against her own and with a skilful move, as if she had been practising for this one moment her entire life, Andy unhooked the clasp on the editor's back, feeling the fabric go limp.

With decades of dressing and undressing women, Miranda had no trouble with the younger woman's front closure and when they moved their torsos away from each other for just an inch, the lace fell away easily. The need to see urged them further apart and Andy feasted her eyes on the vision before her. Tentative fingers reached until they tenderly stroked each other's breasts, sighing at the heat of their palms as they cupped the soft flesh.

Miranda quickly pulled the bra straps down Andy's shoulders, leaving both of them completely naked from the waist up, before stepping back in and bringing their skin back together.

Although they had woken together like this only five days ago, now it felt so very different. The anticipation of what they were about to do heightened their senses, and shock and doubt no longer clouded Andy's absolute desire. She could feel the violent hammering of the older woman's heart against her own chest, and as their lips found each other again, tongues sliding against each other with sweet promises, the brunette fumbled with the zipper of Miranda's pin stripe skirt. Boldly, her palms slid into the loosened fabric and she moaned into the editor when her palms met smooth butt cheeks on their way of sliding the garment down sensuous hips.

Without breaking the kiss, they stepped out of their heels, and Miranda turned them so Andy had her back to the bed. With surprising strength the older woman then lowered her assistant onto the satin sheets, holding her firmly but tenderly around the waist, until Andy was fully on her back.

Eyes glowing with white hot fire, Miranda pulled away from the kiss and stepped back, gazing hungrily down at the brunette sprawled before her.

_She's a goddess, _Andy thought mesmerised as she watched the editor slowly unhook the straps of her garter belt and begin to sensually roll down her thigh-highs. It was a vision of perfection: The body she hadn't known she wanted so much, until it had no longer been around. She knew that Miranda was no perky twenty-year-old, with firm baby skin and abs of steel. However Andy was convinced that, if that were the case, the editor would only be half as enticing as she was now: Dressed in nothing but charcoal lace briefs and a thick layer of unbridled desire.

Andy was about to reach for her own stockings, but the older woman sternly scolded, "No!" and placed a knee on the side of the bed.

"Leave that to me, Andrea," Miranda husked and crawled fully onto the mattress.

Heartbeat pounding wildly in her ears, the younger woman was frozen in place and unable to move as Miranda approached with feline grace. Her shoulder blades alternately rising toward the ceiling, the editor languidly pushed from one arm to the other, clawing her way through the satin and up along the length of Andy's legs. She hovered ever closer, her body suspended above the brunette's, and grinned like a predator about to devour its prey. After a few moments of letting her eyes convey the sincerity in her heart, she finally lowered her mouth to the younger woman's waiting lips.

The kiss left no doubt that Miranda was ready to claim what she considered hers, and it was common knowledge that the queen of fashion _always _got what she wanted. Andy arched up her back to welcome the teasing pressure of the older woman's breasts as Miranda kept herself propped up in the air, hands digging into the bed on either side of the brunette's head.

The younger woman moaned around the forceful tongue that began to ravish her mouth in a promise of what was still to come, plunging deep and exploring every inch of flesh in its wake. All Andy could do was to keep breathing and give herself completely to Miranda. Soon the editor's mouth abandoned the swollen lips and she began kissing down the brunette's neck, licking briefly at the hollow at the base of Andy's throat, before nibbling along the sensitive skin below a collar bone.

All the while, her soft breasts kept brushing against Andy, the stiff peaks setting the younger woman ablaze where they grazed against her skin.

"Oh Jesus, Miranda..." Andy helplessly moaned and her fingers tangled in the silken, white forelock that tickled so deliciously against her skin. She could feel the editor smile as those sweet lips moved lower and over the swell of her breast, hot breath marking a trail all the way to Andy's left nipple. When wet warmth closed around it, Andy was on the edge of fainting.

Soothing knuckles brushed against her cheek, tenderly grounding her, and making her feel safe when the editor's tongue swiped against her roughly. Desire shot straight to Andy's core and she cried out, grabbing a fistful of snowy hair to force the mouth to remain right where it was.

"Mira," she whimpered, the nickname coming easily. The tenderness she had felt for the adorable, little mink and the urge to protect Miranda, no matter what shape or form she was in, translated incredibly well into her all-encompassing love and desire for the older woman.

The editor began to switch between sucking and firmly licking, and Andy felt as if Miranda were drinking straight from her heart, pulling at the love where it came directly from her soul.

The gentle fingers against her cheeks left her face and travelled down until the older woman's nails brushed against her other nipple, circling the areola and preparing it for the coming lips. As she devoted an equal amount of loving, oral attention to the second breast, Miranda's right hand covered the wet nipple above Andy's heart and she began rolling it between her thumb and index finger, gently pulling each time she sucked at its twin, and brushing over it in time with the mirrored movement of her tongue.

Andy groaned and rolled her hips, desperately seeking more contact. She was almost frantic, breath coming in shallow, little pants, and the lace panties that appeared to be stuck between her legs felt way too restrictive. A shiver from longing and the cold air against her suddenly abandoned breasts ran through her and she reluctantly let go of Miranda's gorgeous hair when the older woman slowly moved up and knelt beside her.

Their gazes met, glassy browns drowning in the depth of sincere blue-greens, and Miranda slid a warm palm across Andy's stomach and over her hip, looking at the brunette through lowered lashes while chewing on her bottom lip. Anticipation had Andy's heart racing, but Miranda didn't touch her remaining piece of underwear. Instead, she glided lower and began to carefully roll down first one, and then the other thigh-high.

Only once Andy's legs were bare and tingly from the fashion maven's teasing caresses, did Miranda move her fingers up to the younger woman's abdomen.

"Andrea," she whispered love-drunk, "You are the most remarkable, precious creature in the universe."

Fingertips fluttered along the lace waistband and Andy squirmed, pushing up against the infuriatingly light touch.

"Mira... I'm ready."

The older woman smirked when her index finger slipped beneath the fabric and brushed against the brunette's trimmed curls.

"Are you sure?"

Andy nodded vigorously, biting her own lip to keep from outright pleading.

"Well, then..." Miranda smiled and planted a sweet kiss just above the panties, before hooking under the fabric and firmly tugging it down Andy's thighs and over the readily lifted knees. There went another few hundred dollars, flying through the air and landing god knows where in the older woman's bedroom. Not that either of them cared.

Eager fingers pulled at Miranda's charcoal panties, and soon they were before each other completely naked.

Lips parted from overwhelming desire, the editor slowly crawled back up and slid against Andy's body, angling herself so she could press against the younger woman's side, while resting her weight almost fully on the mattress. The brunette could feel the tickle of short curls against her upper thigh and she opened her arms to welcome Miranda for another kiss.

Less forceful this time, their tongues moved together, a final, slow build-up to their joining. Andy had never felt this cherished before in her life. Her previous lovers had smothered her, of course, but none of them had ever conveyed such a blinding desire to be with her, to hold her, to love her. Her connection with Miranda was unique, their bond so strong that their skin was almost vibrating when their touched. A ripple through the fabric of the very universe, as it played witness to their love.

"Mira..." Andy whispered against the editor's lips, their breaths mingling as they snapped for oxygen. "I'm yours. Please... make me yours."

Miranda's nostrils flared and she had to blink her eyes closed for a few seconds before nodding and sliding a warm hand over Andy's belly. Her warm gaze was firmly locked with the brunette's, both needing a visual link for what they were about to experience.

"Open your legs, Darling," the older woman husked. Andy complied and, through her haze of lust, she still felt embarrassed at the waft of cold air against her centre that revealed just how truly ready she was.

When the fashion goddess slipped a finger between the younger woman's thighs and into the slippery heat, they both moaned at the contact. Andy's head fell back and Miranda leaned down to place a loving kiss on the brunette's shoulder.

"Oh Andrea... you feel," she slowly traced the slit and whispered, "_exquisite_."

With a mind of their own now, Andy's hips rolled forward, seeking more contact, chasing the warm hand. Miranda hummed against the crook of the brunette's neck when she lowered a second finger and languidly brushed her knuckles up against Andy's clit.

"Oh..." the younger woman panted and Miranda began licking at the base of her throat in time with each further stroke against Andy's bundle of nerves.

"I've dreamed about this many times, but I could have never imagined," the editor murmured into the brunette's skin, "how incredibly wonderful you feel, my Darling."

Andy's arms tightened their hold around Miranda's shoulders and she gyrated her hips in time with each movement of the older woman's fingers.

"Mira... please..." she whimpered, gazing across the slope of her cheekbones at the woman who looked back at her, filled with complete awe, her eyes shiny. "I _want _you... please... go inside."

They stared into each other's souls and Miranda carefully poised two fingers at the younger woman's entrance. Voice shaking from emotions, the editor whispered, "I love you," and then she pushed all the way inside.

The sensation forced Andy's eyes shut and she cried out. She could feel Miranda's fingers melt into her, their path eased by the slick walls drenched in her arousal.

"Darling, look at me," the older woman instructed.

Andy forced her lashes up and gazed back into tearful blues. "Mira...?" She suddenly felt concerned.

"Shh, my Darling... please... let me make love you to," Miranda almost pleaded.

"Yes..." was the only thing the brunette managed to say and then the fingers inside her began to move. Slowly out and then back in, stroking her inner walls in all the right places and sending sharp jolts of desire through the rest of her body.

"Oh god, Mira... yes..."

Miranda was incredibly gentle, but seemed to know exactly where to apply pressure when she curled up her fingers. Her knuckles pushed deliciously against the entrance, stretching Andy so lightly that it was almost teasing. Not that it mattered; the brunette was dangerously close to the edge, simply from watching the love and intense need wash over the older woman's face.

"I don't think I can... oh..." she groaned when Miranda's thumb returned to her clit, rubbing firmly with each push inside. "... Mira..."

"It's alright, Darling," the editor whispered so sweetly that Andy knew she would forever feel safe in Miranda's arms. "I've got you. You can let go."

Andy propped up her knee and let it fall away from the older woman, to open herself wider. The sloppy sounds of each thrust into her should have embarrassed the brunette, but it only drove her even higher, delighting in how wet Miranda made her.

"Yes, that's it... _Andrea,_" the editor pressed her body more firmly against her, lifting one knee over Andy's stretched-out leg. She straddled the brunette's thigh, and they both groaned as Miranda's own flood of arousal coated the younger woman's skin. Their hips began to move together, the older woman's upper leg pushing her hand deeper into Andy and the heel of her palm pressed hard against the stiff bundle of nerves.

The brunette held on tightly, digging her fingers into the smooth back as they rolled against each other. They attempted to keep their eyes locked, but were quickly overwhelmed, and Miranda leaned down to rest her forehead against Andy's shoulder.

It was unbelievable how slick and wet the editor was against her thigh, and wanting to share the exact same experience, Andy propped up her trapped leg, slightly lifting Miranda, before slipping her hand around and in between them. The editor whimpered in anticipation and the younger woman's finger drove into her almost on their own, guided by the movement of their hips and the incredible amount of lubrication.

"Oh god... Darling," Miranda cried out and their pace quickened. Their hips rocked firmly and their fingers stroked deeply, filling each other as their palms ground against their clits. Andy's free hand slipped further down to dig into the supple flesh of Miranda's ass, and their torsos flowed against each other in waves, backs arching and breasts pressing together, until suddenly Andy felt herself come apart. Almost as if the essence of her entire being was oozing from her, filtering through her every pore in a bright, deliciously burning light.

"Ahhh..."

She moved frantically, faintly sensing the strong muscles around her own fingers pulsate, as she was swept up by a blinding wave of pleasure. Miranda groaned against her throat and their arms and legs locked around each other almost painfully, muscles becoming rigid with tension and their tight embrace leaving no room for breath, almost crushing their ribs.

Slowly the high current of electricity ebbed away, leaving a warm, simmering buzz behind, and they fell back into the bed with a long, mutual moan.

Their hearts were pounding so rapidly that it was difficult to say which beat belonged to whom, and as their upper bodies rose and fell in a united quest for oxygen, they nuzzled the crook of each other's necks. After a few seconds the older woman shifted, and carefully rolled down to the side, bringing Andy around with her. Facing each other on their sides, they finally opened their eyes, and the brunette saw her own love reflected in Miranda's gaze.

"Wow," the brunette whispered. "That was..."

"... indescribable," Miranda finished, awed.

They grinned warmly, fingers still firmly buried inside each other.

The editor used her free hand to brush a few sweaty strands from Andy's face and then rubbed their noses together.

"You're so incredibly beautiful and precious," she whispered against the younger woman's lips, before claiming them in a gentle kiss.

"Hmmm," Andy hummed happily. "I love you, Mira."

"And I you, Andrea."

Gazes connected, they carefully extracted their fingers, grimacing, as they slowly flexed their hands. Then they giggled at the intensity of their orgasms and slung both arms fully around each other in a tight embrace. The brunette shivered, and the older woman managed to wrangle the sheets out from under them and pulled the covers up and around their shoulders.

They snuggled against each other, basking in the afterglow and the ridiculous amount of stickiness between the two of them.

"Darling," Miranda purred against Andy's neck while she combed her fingers tenderly through the long hair. "Stay..." she said softly. "Stay with me... stay in my life... regardless of the consequences or situations we may find ourselves in. We'll figure everything out... Just please, _stay_."

The younger woman's heart swelled with love and the prospects of a happy future. "Yes! Of course!" She pressed herself tightly against Miranda's body. "You're stuck with me."

"Hmmm... is that so?" the editor chuckled.

"Yes. It was a sure thing the moment you drove your sharp, little canines into me... ahhh... _hahaha_..." she squirmed under the sudden, but gentle bite to her neck that was followed by a soothing lick and a healing kiss.

"Now," Miranda said in her best editor-in-chief voice, "I believe we still have to conduct some research..."

Andy giggled happily and not without giddy anticipation, "Yes, Miranda."

* * *

><p><em><strong>The End.<strong>_


End file.
